


The Fox in the Forest

by tortoises_in_love



Series: An Introduction of Magical Species; or how Stiles found out Scott is a werewolf [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, BAMF Derek, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, BAMF Talia, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoises_in_love/pseuds/tortoises_in_love
Summary: In which Stiles comes home from school to find Scott has been keeping quite a few secrets, not the least of which being his new studly appearance, and the Hales prepare for the Summer Solstice, family reunions, birthday parties, and barbecues. What would a Summer Solstice party be without lots of family drama and the monster of the week to spice things up?





	1. June 10th

June 21st, 2009  
The Hale House

“Derek? Derek! Where’s Derek?” Talia yelled, her voice cracking over the roaring flames like thunder. “Derek!” Panic like flood water crept into her voice as she slammed from room to room, for all the world acting as though she did not see the flames crawling up her shutters, licking into the windows. That she didn’t feel the circle of mountain ash surrounding her home, penning her in, trapping them inside. 

“Mama!” She turned and ran down the hall and through the basement door, almost collapsing onto the floor in her rush. Derek was on the floor in a pool of his own blood, Laura crouched by his side, eyes huge in her face. “He won’t stop bleeding.” She said, her voice breaking as she looked at her mother. 

“Okay, okay baby, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” she kept her voice as gentle as she could, laying shaking hands on the open wound in her sons chest. Behind her she heard Sylvia crashing down the stairs in a flurry of scarves and skirts to fall into a crouch on Derek's other side. She pursed her mouth, meeting Talia's eyes with a grim expression. Talia looked away, fingers clenching reflexively. _No._

“The family is in the den.” Sylvia's voice was quiet, her face maintaining even now that gentle serenity, that strong calm that she’d always had, even when they were kids. Talia nodded tersely before carefully lifting Derek into her arms. 

“Come.” she ordered, focusing on not jostling Derek anymore than necessary, acutely aware of how much blood he had already lost. In the den the family had gathered together, clinging to one another as the light of the flames glinted off the whites of their eyes. When they saw Derek there was a range of cries, the thin blanket of calm splintered. But they weren’t what concerned Talia now. She saw her mother, sitting silent as the grave in her armchair in the corner. 

“Mother,” everyone parted for her as she went to lay Derek at her mother's feet, her chin trembling treacherously as his heartbeat stuttered. Edeline Hale turned her milky white sightless eyes over Derek, her hand reaching out and feeling along his sleeve, up his chest, coming to rest on the wound with resigned focus. She sighed. 

“I do not know, my child.”

“What don’t you know.” Talia's voice came out as a wrecked croak.

“There is nothing I can do." Edie's voice was quiet, regretful, resigned. A horrible panic and rage boiled up within Talia, licking at her throat and threatening to unravel her at the seems. Ruthlessly she squashed it, knowing that her pack’s sanity hung by a thread; they needed her. They needed her _now_. She would not break, she could not break. She looked down at her boy, her beautiful boy, and smoothed back his hair. He didn’t move, his eyelids didn’t flutter, his heartbeat was faint, his breath shallow. His face just beginning to turn grey. Silently, as she watched her son dying, she planned out, in exacting detail, how she was going to kill that woman. That done; using every ounce of control she had she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaning her cheek against his hair as the tears finally came. 

The moment stretched, in that way that horrible moments do, as though time and the universe had contrived to make you suffer for as long as possible. And the only sound beyond the crackle of the flames were the soft sobs of Talia Hale, bent like a question mark over the prone body of her youngest son. 

Suddenly there was a crack, like the snap of a whip followed by a huge sucking noise like wind being shoved backwards into a tube. Cora was the one closest to the window and, hesitant, she stepped closer to it. There was an almost inaudible popping noise, like when the air pressure changes and suddenly you find you can hear so much better than you could before. The front door opened, closed, footsteps in the hall. Still no one moved, no one dared wonder what new horror awaited them now. Surely nothing good could happen at such a time as this. Belatedly, Talia registered that the mountain ash barrier was gone. 

The door to the den opened, and a tall woman with long dark hair swept up on her head stepped in; orange robes flowing out behind her like a cape and what appeared to be a stick in her hand. Her gaze swept the room. 

“Is everyone alright?” her voice, clear as a bell and full of kindness, is what broke the tension curving Talia's spine. It lent her the strength to stand and acknowledge this stranger. She did not ask her her name, because that was less important, or why she was here, because that could be handled later. 

“Can you help him?” was all she said, and stepped aside to reveal Derek's prone body, clinging still like morning dew before the sun has risen. His face stark and white, a cold sweat making his hair damp as black blood soaked his shirt. 

The woman didn't hesitate as she strode forward, the stick coming up in a single wave. Like a prima ballerina beginning her grand performance, limbs poised in la espérance, like the majesty of a conductor about to embark upon a grand opera; artistic, beautiful and with the ease of long practice. A thin stream of gold fell like spiders silk from the tip, pooling in the wound in Derek’s chest to create a small pond of liquid splendor. Talia blinked, feeling dizzy and out of sorts. The woman hummed, her delicate mouth pursing in a frown, and then reached into her pocket, muttering to herself. 

“It’s not exactly- well no, but it’ll do in a pinch.” she pulled out a vial of grey dust and sprinkled it onto the pool of gold collected in the wound. There was a vague smell of burning flowers and a flash of light, like a camera going off and suddenly the gold and the dust vanished, leaving behind a clean open wound neatly stitching itself up. “Fascinating,” the woman murmured, getting up. She watched as his breath began to even out, his scent losing the bitter tinge of death. Suddenly Talia could breath again, her shoulders sagged, her heart pounded in her ears, and in that moment she would have given the mysterious woman anything she asked for. 

“He will live, though he’ll be quite woozy for a few days, and he’ll sleep for the next twenty four hours at least,” Her voice was lilted, accented in some way that Talia couldn't recognize. She turned to regard her, pursing her mouth. “Now, I don’t have much time, but you have to promise me something,”

“Name it,” Talia said without hesitation, her eyes still on Derek. She blinked, and looked the woman in the eye, meeting her gaze for gaze. 

“Never speak of me to anyone. What happened here did not happen. The woman responsible has been dealt with. Only you will remember any of this at all and you must promise me, you must swear,” Talia glanced at her assembled family, her pack, all of whom seem to have decided to lay down and go to sleep. She frowned, turning back to the woman. “When the time comes, Talia, trust him.” and with that she was gone. From one blink to the next she simply was no longer there. She did not elaborate on who ‘he’ was, she did not ask for any confirmation. But Talia knew, this was not a promise she could ever bring herself to break. She looked down at her still breathing son, and nodded. 

“I promise.” 

June 10th, 2016  
The Hale House

“Ok, come at me.” Derek settled himself and braced for impact. 

“Ahhh!” A small boy, six or seven years old, launched himself across the yard howling like a demon. Without hesitating in the face of such ferocity, Derek caught him up in one arm and tossed him high into the air. 

“Oof!” The boy, Tobe, grunted as he hit the ground, sat up, shook his head like a dog and growled, flinging himself forward at full sprint, claws out. Derek laughed as he grabbed him, neatly avoiding the claws, turned him upside down and jiggled him like a piggy bank, startling a breathless giggle out of the boy. 

“Oh yeah? Think that’s funny? Well then, try this!” Derek said and began tickling him. Tobe growled hysterically, trying not to laugh as he struggled out of his uncles arms; not an easy feet by any measure. 

“Unf!” He grunted as he hit the ground running, laughing madly as Derek chased after him. “Ahhh!” he yelled, hands in the air as he narrowly avoided capture, Derek grunted as he tripped over his own feet, laughing breathlessly as Tobe stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Derek! Tobe! Scott’s here!” Sara, Tobe’s mom and Derek's sister-in-law, smiled in amusement as they chased one another around the yard. 

“Scooooottt!!!” Tobe yelled and without pausing turned and ran at the house, hands still in the air. Derek huffed a laugh, panting as he watched his nephew brush past his mother and into the house. He followed at a much more sedated pace, smiling at Sara as he approached.

“Oh, and Derek,” He turned. “He brought Allison,” Derek sighed through his nose. He’d made his peace with the Argent girl, but a part of him would never get past her relationship to Kate. “you gonna be okay?” Sara asked him, frowning. 

“I’ll be fine, Sara. Thanks though,” he smiled, patting her on the shoulder as he continued towards the sound of Tobe shouting. 

“Scooootttt!!!” Tobe yelled, colliding with Scott with a dull thud. 

“Tooobbeee!!!” Scott yelled back, lifting him up into a crushing hug. 

“You’re squishing me!” Tobe said, voice muffled by Scott’s shoulder. Scott laughed as he put Tobe down, ruffling his hair. Sara chuckled from the doorway to the kitchen, towel in hand as she smiled at her son. 

“Dinner will be ready in just a minute,” She said, nodding hello to Allison and winking at Scott before turning back inside. 

“Thank you,” Allison said for both of them, as Scott was occupied in an impromptu wrestling match with Tobe, who was clearly winning. 

“Allison,” Derek nodded at her. 

“Derek,” she replied, meeting his gaze. There was a sort of mutual acknowledgment and understanding that passed between them. This happened any time they interacted, which wasn't often. He didn't dislike Allison, far from it, if she weren't an Argent he'd get along with her quite well. But, well, she was an Argent, and that wasn't something that was going to change. 

“Scott, how are you?” Derek asked, turning to where Scott sat beneath a proud and victorious Tobe.

“Great!” He said, voice muffled by Tobe's hand on his face. “School’s over, I passed all my classes and Stiles is gonna be here in a week!” He said, all in a rush as Tobe attempted to wrangle him onto his back. 

“Who?” Derek asked, but just then Isaac came tripping down the stairs. 

“Scott!!” He yelled and immediately joined the pile on the carpet, causing Tobe to squeal. 

“Isaac!” Scott’s voice was muffled by Tobe landing on top of his face. There was a great deal of muffled grunts, giggles and flailing limbs as two teenage boys and one seven year old wrestled like dogs on the entryway rug. 

"You just saw each other yesterday," Allison sighed in exasperated fondness. 

“Hi Ally!” Isaac managed, poking his head out from underneath Scott’s arm. Allison laughed, shaking her head again. 

“Hello Isaac.” She giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. During the continued kerfuffle and just before Derek was considering breaking it up, there came a loud knock at the door. 

“Hey,” Boyd said

“Boyd,” Derek replied, the two nodding their usual greeting. Derek liked Boyd, Boyd liked Derek. They were bros. Erica, however, only smirked at him in passing before breezily entering as if she owned the place, followed dutifully by Boyd. 

“I’m starving!” Erica announced, regarding the puppy pile on the carpet with an amused brow. 

“Hey Erica.” Allison said, looking over her shoulder. 

“Ahhh!” Tobe yelled, face popping out from under Isaacs arm. “Hi Erica.” he managed before disappearing again, Erica snorted. 

“Hello Tobe.” she grinned as Tobe returned to the attack with a muffled yell. 

“Tobias Aldo Hale, did I raise such a savage?” Sara was standing at the kitchen door with both hands on her hips and her mouth a thin line. “And you two as well, you ought to know better!” She glared at Scott and Isaac who kept their eyes firmly on their toes, Tobe stood up guiltily meeting his mothers eyes. 

"Sorry mama." he said, Sara tsked at him. 

“Sorry Sara.” Isaac said, contrite. Sara sighed, shooting one final warning look at Tobe before rolling her eyes. 

“Dinners ready, if you three care to eat at a table with the rest of us,” she sniffed, voice icy, before she turned back into the kitchen. "honestly..."

Derek rolled his eyes at the three of them before leaving to fetch Cora and Elsa. They were in the living room with Eli, Tobe's younger brother. Eli was five years old, with his father's dark hair and his mothers clear blue eyes, and in five years he'd only said two words; Mama, and no. Cora and Elsa sat with him, playing blocks. Derek stood for a moment, watching as Eli took one block and placed it carefully on top of another. They played in near silence, Eli didn't like noise, and for the first few years had cried constantly, inconsolable. Things only began to improve after Grandma Edie had begun visiting regularly. Derek had a sneaking suspicion that his mother was trying to get their grandmother to move in permanently. It was anyone's guess if she would, Edie loved Campeche, but she also loved her family. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Derek whispered, walking over and crouching down beside Eli, who blinked at him. “Hey Eli,” he didn't touch him. “You ready to eat?” he asked, knowing Eli wouldn’t respond. He didn’t, just blinked at Derek in that way of his before taking one small hand and patting Derek's stubbly cheek. Derek worked his jaw, and nodded. Slowly he held up a hand, making sure Eli could see him as he lifted him into his arms. 

Derek carried him into the dining room, Cora and Elsa following without a word, leaving the blocks strewn haphazardly about the living room floor. David was coming down the stairs with Talia and took Eli from him in much the same manner as Derek had picked him up. 

“I’ll take him upstairs,” David smoothed Eli’s hair out of his face. Talia nodded, smiling at Eli but refraining from touching him. She and Derek watched as they went upstairs, Talia squeezing Dereks shoulder before continuing into the kitchen. 

“Ah, ah! Not yet!” Enzo slapped Cora’s hand away from the roast. Cora pouted, stomping into the dining room with a huff. Talia grinned as she stole a kiss from her husband and a small bite of roast, causing Enzo to sigh in exasperation. “You encourage her,” he said, setting the roast down. Talia attempted an innocent smile and Enzo snorted, going to set out the rest of the food. 

“Did David take Eli upstairs?” Sara asked. 

“Yeah,” Sara nodded, grabbed two plates laden with food and swept from the room without a word. 

“I’m starving!” Erica yelled for the fourth time, pouting as she salivated at the feast before her. 

“You’re always starving,” Cora teased, Erica stuck her tongue out at her and Cora made a face. Talia laughed, sitting down at the head of the table as Enzo sat across from her. With a great deal of flourish and eyebrow wiggling Talia grabbed a fork and took a large bite of potato. Erica whooped for joy and dug in. 

“Where’s Ryan?” Derek asked, looking around for his eldest sister. 

“Here!” Ryan yelled, slamming into the room and collapsing into the chair opposite Derek. Talia raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who ignored her. 

“You’re late,” she said dryly. Ryan rolled her eyes, forking food onto her plate. 

“Hello to you too ma,” she said around a gross amount of food. 

“Ryan, please chew your food,” Enzo said mildly. Ryan swallowed, taking a large swig of water with an eyebrow wiggle. 

“Yes dad,” she said, grinning at him before turning an inquiring eye about the table. “Where’s your better half?” she asked, kicking Derek under the table. 

“She and Kellen will arrive tomorrow,” Talia answered as Derek was still chewing and unlike Ryan wasn't an animal. 

“What about Aunt Sylvia?” Elsa asked. 

“She should be here by your birthday dearest,” Enzo said, smiling at his youngest. “Peter on the other hand, heaven knows when that man will grace us with his presence.” 

“Helena’ll have him here before Monday, mark my words,” Ryan smirked, Derek frowned into his pork loin, making a face. He bore no excess of love for his uncle, but his aunt Helena was rather terrifying in all aspects. No doubt Ryan was right, Derek tried to focus on his food and the idle conversation around him. Tobe let out a rather impressive belch and Isaac whistled. 

“Nice.” Ryan high fived him. 

“Tobias Hale!” Talia scolded. “Ryan don’t encourage him,” Tobe attempted to look contrite, though no one was buying it. Talia rolled her eyes. “Derek are you picking Granny up tomorrow?” She asked, turning away from her grandson. 

“8 AM,” Derek confirmed, eating his roast. He got distracted a bit by Scott entertaining Isaac by pretending to be a Walrus. Lucky for Scott, Talia's attention was elsewhere. 

“So, Ryan,” Talia set her fork down on an empty plate and considered her eldest daughter. Ryan winced, taking a particularly large bite of roast. “How is New York?” 

Ryan took her time chewing, avoiding eye contact with her mother. “Oh, you know, it’s; still there." Talia raised an eyebrow. “So,” Ryan leaned back, fiddling with her fork. “How’re things here?” Talia narrowed her eyes at her, eyebrow ticking dangerously towards her hairline. 

“I lost a tooth!” Tobe declared, demanding attention. Ryan laughed, slapping Tobe on the back so hard he almost face planted in his mashed potatoes. 

“I see that! Very nice,” 

"Soon it's gonna grow back, and it'll be a fang! Like daddy's." he nodded matter-of-factly, pushing his pea's to the side to get at his meat. 

"Of course you will bud." Ryan ruffled his hair.

“Isaac got an a in Physics.” Erica declared to the room, grinning at Isaac who glared at her from across the table. 

“Dude!” Scott enthused, grinning at Isaac, who was turning rather pink under all the attention. 

“That’s wonderful!” Talia said, turning away from glaring at Ryan to beam at Isaac warmly. “I’m so proud of you,” 

“Way to go Isaac!” Enzo grinned at him, Isaac squirmed a bit, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I’m going to the State Championships!” Cora announced loudly, causing everyone to shift attention. Isaac gave her a grateful smile and she winked at him. 

“Awesome!” Ryan gave her a high five across Tobe and began asking about various technical aspects, still avoiding looking directly at her mother. After a while Enzo stood up and got out the dessert; an assortment of pies, a tub of ice cream and some pudding. He was still setting out the pudding when David and Sara came down from putting Eli to bed. Ryan looked up from her conversation with Cora and grinned at her brother, standing up. 

“Hey Ryan,” David smiled warmly, squeezing her tightly. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Hey Sara," she smiled at her sister-in-law. "How’s Eli?” .

“He’s better,” Sara answered, sounding a little forced. "Edie say's it's only a matter of time before he starts talking so, really," Ryan looked at David and sighed, hand coming up to knead at his shoulders. 

“Oh Davey, you know what Sylvia says, he’ll talk when he’s ready. Just, give him time,” Ryan said, David nodded, putting on a brave smile that didn't fool her for a second. 

“Actually, ah, we have an announcement,” David said, pulling himself together and grabbing Sara’s hand. Talia looked up from her conversation with Enzo, noting the change in tone. “Everyone,” the chatter faded as they all turned to him and Sara, Ryan started to grin. “We um, well,” 

“We’re pregnant!” Sara finished, grinning at her husband and squeezing his hand. 

“I knew it!” Elsa said, jumping up and rushing over to hug them both. Ryan laughed and slapped David on the back, giving Sara a gentle hug. Then of course, nothing would do but that everyone got up and congratulated them as well. Enzo was weeping as he crushed David to himself, huge shoulders shaking as he kissed Sara’s forehead and sniffed loudly as Talia laughed at him. Tobe was walking around declaring to anyone who would listen that he knew already, and he had kept the secret valiantly even though it was really, very hard because he was a big brother _again_ , which is better than only once. 

In the midst of the congratulations there was a light knock on the front door; only Talia and Derek noticed, everyone else distracted by Enzo making a weepy toast. Derek raised an eyebrow at his mother who shrugged and slipped away to go answer it. 

“Hello!” Talia blinked; it was a boy, couldn't be eighteen yet, with brown hair and eyes and moles dotting his face like a constellation. “Um, I’m sorry, this is the Hale House right?” he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Melissa said this is where it was and I mean I’ve never been out there before but there was only one road so..”

“Yes, this is the Hale House. I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“Oh sorry, I’m Stiles! Stiles Stilinski!” He held out a hand that Talia shook, bemused. 

“Talia Hale,” She said, about to ask him why he was here when-

“Stiles?” Scott had come up behind her. 

“Scott!” 

“Stiles!” And then there was a great deal of hugging in her entryway. 

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Ryan asked, watching the hugging with an amused smirk. 

“Stiles! What are you doing here!” Scott asked. 

“I got back early! I went to go see you but Melissa said you were having dinner here?” Stiles answered, confusion clear in his voice, though Scott ignored it. 

“Dude!” more hugging. “Are you hungry? There’s like so much food.” Scott said, pulling back with that expression on his face that meant he was afraid he was being rude. 

“Dude I’m always hungry!” Stiles flailed his arms and Talia rolled her eyes, closing the front door. 

“There’s food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourself Stiles, any friend of Scott’s is a friend of ours.” Talia smiled, pushing them into the dining room. 

“Thank you Mrs. Hale,” Stiles grinned, looking around the jovial crowd of people and glancing between them and Scott pointedly. He saw Allison next to a hot blonde, he'd met her briefly over skype once so he recognized her. Not so much everyone else, though the blonde did look familiar.

“Batman?” Erica asked, looking over from where she’d been teasing Boyd about their future babies.

“Catwoman?” Stiles asked, incredulous as he tried to reconcile the beautiful bombshell in front of him to the shy, small little thing he'd known when they were kids. 

“Batman!” Erica exclaimed and rushed over to lift Stiles off his feet in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in years! How the hell have you been?” Stiles let out a startled laugh, grinning at her. 

“Not as good as you! damn girl! You look great.” Stiles pulled back to look at Erica, who actually blushed which was; unusual. Boyd was frowning more than usual. 

“Am I missing something?” Ryan asked. 

“Oh, sorry. Guys this is Stiles, Stiles these are...the guys.” Scott managed lamely, Cora kicked him (Stiles totally noticed). “Stiles is my best friend.” He said by way of explanation.

“Psch, brother more like,” Stiles slung an arm around Scott's shoulders with an easy grin. 

“Soul bros,” Scott intoned. Erica laughed, patting a rather sullen Boyd on the bicep, eyes glinting. 

“Stiles proposed to me when we were in fourth grade,” Erica grinned at Stiles, who winked back, completely unfazed by the death glare he was getting from Boyd. 

“Aww!” Ryan said, making a googly face. "Kidposal!" 

“What?” Boyds arms tightened where they were crossed across his chest, Erica laughed harder. 

“Yup, my very first fiance.”

“First?” Erica said, hand to her chest in mock offense. 

“Alas!" Stiles threw his hand up for added drama. "I also proposed to about five other people that year, it was a phase. What can I say, I had a lot of love to give.” He shrugged and Erica snorted. 

“Yeah, didn’t Lydia Martin punch you in the face?” She asked. 

“Yeah but not for proposing, I kissed her on the cheek and she said I gave her herpes so she punched me,” Stiles grinned toothily. “Best moment of my life, I tell ya, she had a mean right hook.” 

“I’ll have to remember that,” Allison said, amused. 

“You know her?” Stiles asked, Allison laughed. 

“She’s my best friend, she’s dating Jackson Whittemore now,” 

“Gross, that neanderthal?" Stiles shook his head. "There's no justice in the world I tell ya." 

“Dude, how are you even here? I thought you had another week of school?” Scott said, interrupting. 

“I graduated early!” Stiles announced, grinning. 

“Dude!” Scott said, slapping him on the back. “That’s awesome!” 

“So, what are you doing now, Stiles?” Allison asked, handing Stiles and Scott plates of pie. Scott gave her a dopey puppy eyed look that Stiles swears gave him an instant cavity.

“Interning, in the fall.” Stiles said, taking a bite of pie and moaning in pleasure. “Oh this is amazing!” 

“I’m glad you like it.” Enzo said, coming over. Stiles moaned again, taking another bite. 

“Interning? Where at?” Allison asked. 

“The high school, actually, there’s a new teacher starting this year who studied with this professor in Nigeria, she’s supposed to be pretty impressive, speaks like a bajilion languages,” Stiles said around a mouthful of pie, gesturing with his fork and narrowly avoiding Derek's left eye. 

“That’s interesting, how long are you planning on interning for?” Talia had come over, leaving David and Sara with a still highly excited Elsa. 

“I dunno, a year?” Stiles said, shrugging. 

“Any plans afterwords?” Talia asked. 

“Nope,” Stiles said, finishing off his pie and turning to Scott. “So, Scott ol’ buddy ol’ pal. What up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking around the Hale kitchen. 

“Oh, you know, not much,” Scott said, focusing on his pie. 

“We’ve adopted him,” Ryan said, coming over and pulling Scott into a rough side hug. 

“Yeah! And we’re not giving him back!” Isaac called from where he was being climbed like a tree by Tobe. 

Scott grinned and shrugged at Stiles who could only shake his head bemusedly. 

“We are very fond of Scott,” Talia said warmly, making Scott blush. 

“Hm, well, I can’t really blame him. That was the best pie I’ve ever eaten,” they chuckled. “No seriously, it’s changed my life. I’ll never be the same,” 

“Well then, by all means have some more.” Enzo said, refilling his plate. Stiles grinned and turned to Scott, shrugging as he dug in. Whatever it was, he was sure Scott would tell him eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently rewriting this story, should have it done in a week or so. Hopefully


	2. June 11th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott have bro time
> 
> Derek and Laura reunite
> 
> hilarity ensues.

June 11th, 2016  
The Stilinski House

“Marvel?”

“As in the comic?”

“Come on dude!”

“Alright, alright, I heard Deadpool was good.”

“Psch, Deadpool was amazing.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“They don’t let you see _anything_? Like, at all?”

“We only got wifi this year, and they’re super paranoid about it, seem to think it’ll corrupt the experience or something. Plus, I try not to watch trailers, it’s just disappointing you know?” 

“That sucks.”

“Ha, yeah, kinda.”

Scott considered him for a bit, his hair sticking up as he dangled upside down on the couch. 

“Soooo, you’re graduated?”

“Yep,” Stiles said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth and snorting at something on tv. 

“How?” Stiles shrugged, leaning back against the couch and balling up the empty popcorn bag. 

“What can I say, I’m a genius,” He said, waving his hand and batting his eyelashes with a lopsided smile. 

“Psch, I mean, I’ve always known that but wow dude! That’s really cool! I wish I was a genius. Then I could pass geometry.” he flopped down beside Stiles. 

“You’re not doing that bad, besides, now you have the Amazing Stilinski at your side! Nothing can stop you!” Stiles declared, leaping up and accidentally stepping on a popcorn kernel. Scott laughed as Stiles hopped up and down, cursing under his breath. 

“Ah!” Stiles sighed, flopping down on the floor again, starfished out. “It feels good to be free. No more exams! No more studying! No more ghosts!” 

“Ghosts?”

“I-mean, roasts!” he corrected hastily. “Everyone roasts each other there, it gets very discouraging,” Scott made a face at this but didn’t challenge him on it. “Sooo...” Stiles drew out, turning over onto his stomach to make a rather ridiculous face at Scott. “Allison, huh?”

“Yeah,” Scott sighed, his face going soft and a goofy smile making him look more than a little love struck. Stiles laughed. 

“Wow you got it bad,” He said, kicking him to get his attention again. “So, tell me everything.”

“I’ve already told you everything!” Scott protested, rubbing his shin.

“You have not!” Stiles exclaimed, throwing his hands up as he mock glared at Scott. “You haven’t told me about how wildly popular you’ve become, how you’re now apparently captain of the lacrosse team! And how you went from spaghetti arm Jim to the Buffmeister seemingly overnight! Don’t think I didn’t catch that little development buster- not to mention the whole 'Dinner with the Hales' thing!” Scott had steadily tried to grow smaller and shrink through the floor as Stiles talked. 

“O-oh, that’s, well you see...the thing is.” Scott gulped as Stiles raised The Eyebrow of Doom. The eyebrow that said his detective skills were going to come out, and if you lied he’d know and eventually find out the truth on his own because he was Stiles Stilinski and nothing, ever, got past him. Scott gulped again. 

“Well, Allison said I should work out, so I-you know, started to w-with her, after school- and then Danny, Mahealani you remember him- right, yeah um- he said I was getting better, which I guess was true. Then Coach put me on first string and Jackson really didn’t like that- but then the popular kids started talking to me! Mostly because of Allison ,I think, she’s friends with Lydia and she sort of controls the school so ya know...but that meant Cora Hale was sitting with us at lunch and then she invited Allison and me to her place for...a, party, yeah a party! And then we got to know the Hales, and they’re really cool! Really, and they sort of adopted me and I don’t really mind cause they’re, really cool, really.” he stopped himself before he could do more damage, gulping at the look on his best friends face. Stiles face was impassive, zero emotion, pure calculation and Scott had never been this scared. Not when that Alpha attacked him, not when Jackson threatened him, not even that one time Ryan had beat him up during training. He knew that face. He was so, so screwed. 

“Huh,” was all Stiles said. And Scott felt so relieved he may have actually shed a tear. 

They were silent for a moment while Scott tried to collect his shattered nerves and Stiles stared thoughtfully at the TV, seemingly enraptured by the Big Bang Theory, when the door burst open. 

“What?” Scott managed as Isaac fell onto the floor, quickly followed by Cora, Boyd and Erica, who was on Boyd’s shoulders. Boyd didn’t even look like he noticed she was there either, face as stoic and blank as ever. 

“Congratulations pups! The fun has arrived!” Erica announced, jumping from Boyds shoulders onto the couch in an impressive display of agility. “Batman,” she winked at Stiles who couldn’t help a small smile in return. 

“Ew, I hate this show. Lets watch a movie.” Cora said, making a face at the TV and grabbing the remote from Scott’s absent hand. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Scott asked, face creased in confusion. 

“We got bored,” Isaac said helpfully, sitting down beside Scott and surreptitiously eyeing Stiles warily. 

“Speak for yourself, I am hiding from my sister.” Cora said, flipping through channels trying to find the movies. 

“Um..” Stiles managed, sitting up now. 

“I swear she’s developed the ability not to breath, she hasn’t come up for air since they got here, it’s DISGUSTING!” Cora complained, settling on Die Hard and putting her feet on Erica who shoved them off immediately. 

“Um…” Stiles said again.

“Sorry, their idea.” Boyd said, making what was probably meant to be a sorry face, though it mostly just looked like he had gas. Stiles sighed, standing up, which caused Cora to yell at him to get out of the way. He raised his eyebrow at her slowly, she just glared at him. He sighed again. 

“I’ll get snacks, since I guess this is a party.” he said, and walked into the kitchen. 

“Guys what are you doing here?” Scott whispered furiously once Stiles had gone

“We’re keeping you from blabbing,” Cora said, eyes still fixed on the screen. Scott sputtered, making a face. 

“I would never!” he spluttered. 

“We know!” Isaac said earnestly. “I really was just bored.”

“And I really am avoiding my sister” Cora said, glancing down at Scott before returning her gaze to the screen. 

“Where’s Allison anyway? You two are joined at the hip.” Erica asked.

“She’s shopping with Lydia, she wanted me to have time with my best friend whom I haven’t seen in _a year_!” Scott said, glaring at all of them. Only Isaac and Boyd looked the least bit ashamed. 

“Alright, so I’ve got chips and salsa, some crackers, a half-eaten box of cookies. But not much else, sorry,” Stiles set the snacks down and put his hands on his hips. “What did I miss?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing!” They all said in unison, and Scott cursed himself internally. He was so, so screwed. 

“Oh brother dear, whatever have you been doing without me these long, dreary months?!” Laura flopped dramatically onto Derek’s lap, hand over her face in a swoon. 

“Pining,” Derek said flatly, lifting his book out of the way as she squirmed. 

“Oh please, you missed me and you know it,” She said, putting her feet up next to Derek’s head and stretching out. 

“How was London?” he asked, still half-reading. 

“Wet,” She said, examining a nail. “I much prefer Greece, so much more fun, and the food was amazing.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Derek said, still reading. 

“What about you?” she said, drawing out the question and poking him in the head with her big toe. He glared at her, shoving her feet away from his face. “Oh come on! Derek I haven’t seen you in like six months! What is up!” Derek sighed, putting down his book. 

“I’m fine, you know I don’t do well this time of year,” Her eyebrows shot up and a guilty expression flashed across her face. 

“Oh, right, sorry. I forgot.” 

“I’m fine,” he said again, rubbing at his temples. “I’m just a bit stressed out is all, my editors on my ass about my deadline coming up and I still haven’t finished the last chapter. That on top of...everything else is just, a lot,” Laura sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder and waiting for his breathing to even out. “Yes, I did miss you Laur. A lot,” Laura smiled, squeezing his bicep. 

“Aw, I missed you too bro,” she said, snuggling into his shoulder. Derek huffed a laugh and patted her head. 

“How’s Kellen anyway?” he asked. 

“He’s lovely, beside himself with anxiety over meeting the family but, really doing quite well considering,” Derek grunted.

“I thought mom was gonna gut you for spilling the secret like that. Bold move sis,” He said, giving her a side eye. Laura snorted, sitting up properly. 

“What can I say, better to ask forgiveness than permission right?” She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes. Derek raised an eyebrow. “Well if I’d done it the ‘proper’ way it would have taken forever,” She said, using air quotes over ‘proper’. 

“Well, you got lucky is all I’m saying,” he said, picking up his book. “Now, I really should finish reading this,” 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“Greek mythology.” 

“Ew,” Derek raised an eyebrow at her and shoved her unceremoniously off the couch. “Hey!” she grunted indignantly. 

“Huh?” Kellen, Laura’s boyfriend, frowned at her. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Because Derek’s boring and mean,” she said, flopping onto her back in a pout. Kellen raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh,” he said, as though this explained everything. He considered her for a moment before joining her on the floor. “This is kind of boring too,” Laura kicked him in the shin. “There’s no need to hit me, I’m just telling the truth.” Laura stuck her tongue out at him before leaping up and flouncing into the kitchen. 

“She really did miss you you know,” Kellen said after a moment, still lying on the floor. Derek raised an eyebrow over his book. “She talks about you a lot. She worries.” Derek sighed. 

“Yeah, I know.” Derek said. 

“She thinks you’re lonely.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“That’s not what she says.”

“Well she’s wrong.’

“She’s decided to find you a girlfriend.”

“What?!”

“Or a boyfriend, she didn’t really specify a preference.” 

Derek face-palmed.


	3. June 12th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an unfortunate turn of events calls for an obligatory meeting of allies

June 12th, 2016  
Hale House

There are four major hunting families in the world, the Ronans of Ireland, the Argents of France, the Nassars of Egypt, and the Kalfa. The Kalfa family of Greece is the oldest and most respected of the hunter community. They enforce the rules, over hunters and the supernatural community as a whole. The rules are simple; do not endanger the innocent, keep the secret, maintain order, do not kill without cause. It was because of these rules that the community of shifters and hunters had remained underground for so long. Well, that and a deal with the druids. 

According to the legends, at least, Iona Kalfa, some five hundred years ago, had made a deal with the druid leader Lilah. A promise to maintain the secret, to keep the shifters away from the rest of the world. A spell of concealment and protection, maintained over thousands of years. 

So, one might imagine that when, seven years ago, Katherine Argent appeared dog tied and gagged on the Kalfa’s front doorstep with a note explaining why, that they were not very pleased, you see the Argents had a rather antagonistic relationship with the rest of the hunter families. Gerard Argent has never been one to mince words with those he deems less than worthy, and Althea Kalfa is not someone to offend lightly. 

Now, when Conrad Ronan told his eldest daughter Victoria that she would be marrying the eldest son of the Argent family she was very pleased. Christopher was very handsome, a strong hunter and a good follower. Alice Argent was a legend in and of herself, and Victoria looked forward to learning from her. So it was a rather great disappointment when she realized the depth of mental instability in her new family. Alice’s own derangement, Gerard’s careless offenses and finally Kate’s transgressions would have been enough for any leader to buckle under the pressure. 

Not Victoria Argent. She had picked up her family, moved to Beacon Hills and had worked ceaselessly to secure a treaty with the Hale Pack, she had apologized, made allowances, spent months learning proper custom and respect, she had done everything short of begging for forgiveness. The relationship between hunters and lycans would never be easy, but in Beacon Hills at least, it was amiable. And while she could not really approve of her daughters involvement with _him _, she had to admit it had it’s advantages.__

It was with all this in mind that she stepped out of her car that morning, surveying the large Hale House. Late Victorian, beautifully crafted, well guarded. She cut a side eye towards the tree line.

Squaring her shoulders she began the walk up to the house. As this was technically an informal gathering she'd come only with Chris and Niko, the benefit of respect outweighing caution in this regard. 

Before she’d reached the door it opened to reveal Talia Hale herself, looking easy and beautiful in that wild, dangerous sort of way these people had. Victoria's chin lifted. 

“Victoria.” 

“Talia.” She nodded, inclining her head just exactly the proper amount, Talia did not reciprocate. Victoria hadn’t expected her to. “We need to talk.” Talia considered her for only a moment before nodding. 

“The meeting room is through here.” She said, and lead them into a small room to the right to the doorway. It was occupied mostly by a large table, at which were seated various members of the Pack. Victoria recognized Talia’s siblings, Peter and Sylvia Hale. Though the large, dark skinned man was a stranger to her, she noted his position near the exit and moved on. She noted also Talia’s eldest son and his wife. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose, a human married marrying a wolf. It was unspeakable. Unbidden she thought of Alison that morning running off to school, dimpling as she talked about Scott. She shook it off, Alison would come to her senses eventually. 

Talia gestured for her to sit opposite, though they all waited for Talia to sit first. They moved fast, Victoria noted, considering they can't have had more than ten minutes warning of her arrival. 

“Early this morning a body was found in the east woods, next to the river. My people confirmed that it was a student from the high school, Christine Smith, the police are ruling it an animal attack.” Peter raised an eyebrow at this though Talia remained impassive. “An hour ago I received confirmation that it was a shifter attack, though the exact nature is as of yet unknown.” Not a wolf, she shout, jaw set. Too much blood, too much waste. Something else then. She hated new things. 

Talia leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the table. “What do you know?” she asked, face polite.  
“It was vicious, the remains were only identifiable via dental records.” Victoria’s nostrils flared, there were certain things that one could not unsee, and that girl... she cleared her throat. “And it appears some kind of paralytic was used, the ME found it in her system.” 

Talia closed her eyes briefly, leaned back, her mouth pursed as her hand rubbed at her lower lip. An expression of immense tiredness crossed her face for a moment. 

“What?” Victoria asked, voice rather short. 

“There is only one known shifter capable of causing paralysis in their victims.” Peter said conversationally. Victoria raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "A Kanima."

“A Kanima? There’s no such thing.” Chris said, voice only slightly scornful. 

“They are rare, but not extinct.” The dark skinned man said, voice deep and accented. If Victoria had to guess she’d say central Africa, rural central Africa judging by his wardrobe. 

“Kanima’s are supposedly vicious, man eating lizards capable of paralyzing their victims while they eat them alive, rather like the Camel Spider of the middle east.” Peter added, overly helpful. 

“It’s not the Kanima that worries me.” Sylvia said softly. 

“It isn’t?” what could be worse than that? 

“Kanima’s do not act alone,” She said. “They require a master whom they imprint on, this person directs them, tells them what to do. If this Kanima is killing, it is not doing it alone or of their own will.” 

“What is more, whoever it is may not even be aware of what is happening.” Talia said finally, letting her hands drop into her lap. 

“What do you mean?” Victoria asked once more, making sure her voice was as polite and respectful as possible. 

“A Kanima is created when a person who receives the bite is corrupted, either because of their internal spirit or because of an interference in their blood. It is a mutation of the lycan bite. Because of the nature of this mutation the recipient may be unaware of their actions, acting purely on instinct, confused as to why they are losing time, waking up in strange places, etcetera.” Talia took a deep breath. “It is likely, that whomever this is was bitten by the rogue alpha responsible for Scott, Erica, Boyd and Isaac.” Victoria schooled her features, adjusted her breathing. Bit down on her control. 

“I thought you’d taken care of that?” She said. 

“I did,” Talia’s gaze was hard. “He did not admit to any further assaults.” 

“Well,” Chris said. “It would appear that he lied.” 

“So it would seem.” Talia replied, face unreadable. 

“If the Kanima is not in charge of itself, then how do we find it?” David asked, frowning. 

“With only one victim a pattern is impossible. I have a contact at the Sheriff's department to see if they have any leads. Beyond that there is little we can do.” Talia said, face sour. 

“What do you mean nothing you can do?” Victoria asked, her voice betraying her yet again. 

“The Kanima has no distinctive scent, it is impossible to track.” Sylvia replied. Victoria was silent for a moment, lips pursed as she thought. 

“Very well, my hunters will do what we can to aide you.” With that she stood, nodding to Talia in respect and leaving when she was bid. Angrily she stalked out to the car. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Chris said, getting behind the wheel. 

“Call Abe.” She said. “We’re killing this thing.” 

 

“I’m assigning everyone patrols.” Talia said, standing. “Peter, call a meet would you.” She didn’t wait for his response before sweeping from the room, face stormy. 

“That bad?” Ryan asked, watching her mother disappear upstairs. 

“That bad.” Peter said. “Call a meet would you.” He strode off towards the den, hands in pockets. “Oh, and you wouldn’t happen to have seen my wife anywhere would you?” 

“Downstairs with Viggo last I saw.” Ryan answered, running out the door to fetch the pups. 

“Is the boring meeting over?” Tobe asked, bouncing down the stairs. 

“Yes, the boring meeting is over.” David said, catching his son with one arm and hauling him over his shoulder, giggling, as they walked into the den. 

Sara shook her head after them before sighing and heading off to find her youngest. She found him with Granny Edie, sequestered away in an attic room, away from any noise or distraction. As she watched Edie took Eli’s hand and placed what appeared to be a seed inside, closing his tiny fist over it and wrapping her crooked old hands around it. Eli’s face was scrunched up in concentration, staring at his closed fist with such intense focus Sara was afraid to interrupt. But, as she watched, the frustration on Eli’s face became more clear the longer nothing happened. Tugging his fist out of her grasp he threw the seed to the attic floor. 

“No!” He said, glaring at it. 

Patiently Edie retrieved the seed, replaced it in his hand, closed his fist, wrapped it in hers. 

“Yes.” she said softly. 

Unwilling to interrupt this, and knowing Eli would be in a terrible mood until he finished whatever it was they were doing, Sara left them. 

She found the rest of the family in the den, sans Scott and Isaac. Talia raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head, understanding, Talia merely nodded and turned to the door just as Scott and Isaac tripped inside, collapsing on the carpet in a heap. She frowned at them briefly before shaking her head. 

“Sorry, we’re late.” Scott said, panting slightly. 

“You are forgiven.” Talia replied blandly, and turned to face them all, face grim. “There is no better way to say this, so I will simply say it. Last night there was a murder.” Scott and Isaac sat up sharply. “We believe that a Kanima is responsible.”

“What-” Scott started only to get elbowed in the ribs by Isaac who gestured for him to be quiet. 

“A Kanima,” Talia continued, with a look at Scott who cringed back slightly. “Is a mutated lycan, a bite gone wrong. It is likely this person is unaware of what they are doing, and are merely doing the bidding of their master. Now, this creature is very dangerous, it is fast, scentless and brutally violent, capable of paralyzing its victims before it attacks.” her eyes swept the room, mouth a thin line. “I am not trying to frighten you, but you must be aware. All of you.” She said with a look at the teenagers present. “Must be very careful.” Her eyes lingered on Peter’s daughters as well as Cora who was doing her best to look earnest. “Starting tonight I’m instituting double patrols. From now until this beast is caught no one is to go anywhere by themselves and that is an order.” she bore down on that making eye contact with her more rebellious daughters. Finally she nodded, “Sylvia and I will take tonight's patrol. Derek, you and Laura take the morning.” Derek nodded and after a brief pause Laura nodded as well. “Very well.” Talia said in dismissal, taking a seat in her favorite chair as the pack dispersed, huffing a hollow sounding laugh as Tobe dragged Scott and Isaac off to play in the backyard and Cora picked a fight with Elsa over her shirt. Nothing rattled them for long. 

“Alright love?” Enzo asked, leaning over the back of the chair, hands massaging her shoulders. 

“Fine,” she said softly, eyes closing in pleasure. 

“Liar.” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “Who wants cake?” he asked loudly.

“Me! Me! I want cake!” Tobe called, abandoning Scott and Isaac in favor of skipping after his grandfather. “Grandpa! Grandpa I want cake!” He said again, latching onto Enzo’s arm and swinging there. 

“Yes, yes, I heard you. What kind of cake would you like?” Enzo asked as they disappeared into the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Sylvia said, sitting down on the couch near her. 

“I’m fine.” Talia said again. 

“No, you’re not.” Sylvia said, eyes level. Talia rolled her eyes. 

“Well I have to be, don’t I.” She said, sinking deeper into her chair. Sylvia huffed lightly, smiling. 

“What is a pack for if not to share the burden?” 

“There is nothing to bear.”

“Really?”

“He died, Sylvia, that’s the end of it. It was a very long time ago.” 

“Time is an illusion.” Talia made a face, wrinkling her nose in distaste. 

“Ugh, must you always be such a hippie.” She said, getting up and stretching. 

“Must you always be so strong.” Sylvia countered, voice soft. Talia rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, unless I am faced with cake.” She said, walking towards the kitchen. “Cake will always defeat me.” 

 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Parrish said, frowning at the large red stain on the ground. 

“There hasn’t been an animal attack in Beacon Hills in, what, fifty years?” Greenberg said, hands in pockets. 

“Forty eight.” The Sheriff corrected. 

CSI had already cleared the body and most of the evidence so the clearing was mostly bare. The only thing that remained was the red stain on the forest floor, stained moss and leaves, a few broken twigs. John had insisted on coming back out here and looking around, Greenberg was backup, Parrish was...well he was Parish, the man just sort of popped up places. John still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He’d considered looking into it, but, well he had other things to worry about besides a strange deputy. 

It just didn’t feel right. It felt, John didn’t want to say what it felt like because if he said it that would mean admitting he needed help from Phil, and he hated asking Phil for help. 

It’s not that he was ungrateful, really, the woman had saved his life after all, and he’d always be grateful for what she’d done for Stiles. But spending any amount of time around his late wife's twin was not something he looked forward too. 

Sighing through his nose John knelt down, pursing his lips at the brown stain, glaring at it as though he might through sheer force of will make it evaporate into nothing. Stubbornly it stayed, mocking him in the bright sunlight filtering through the trees. 

“What’re you thinkin’ boss?” Greenberg asked. John sighed again, looking around the clearing, hands resting on his knees. 

Suddenly he saw something, just past the tree line, out of sight. Frowning John stood up, chewing on his lips he surveyed the clearing once more, sparing the blood stain one last glance before turning back to Parrish and Greenberg. The former was giving him a curious look which he chose to ignore. 

“Back to the station boys, we’ll look into her last days, see what we can find.” he started walking away, resolutely not looking behind him. 

He was definitely going to have to call Phil.

Damnit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you guys liked this chapter. Things are starting to get up to speed which I'm excited about. Also I'm sort of looking for a beta reader, sooo if you're interested hmu.


	4. June 13th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A great deal comes to light, discoveries are made, and a great deal is misunderstood.

June 13th, 2016  
McCall House

“Stiles?” Melissa blinked at him before breaking into a sudden smile. “Stiles! It’s so good to see you!” She enveloped him in a warm hug and Stiles grinned, lifting her slightly off the ground and startling a laugh out of her. “How have you been? Come in, come in!” She pulled him inside, leading him to the kitchen. “How was school?” She asked, starting a pot of coffee. Stiles grinned. 

“It was great, I graduated early.” He said, grinning and accepting a cup of black coffee, Melissa knew him so well. 

“So I heard,” she said, sitting across from him at the counter. “Proud of you.” She said, squeezing his arm and he felt his chest swell slightly with warmth. 

“Thanks.” He said, smiling warmly. “So, where’s Scott anyway? The movie starts in like half an hour, at this rate we’re probably going to miss the previews, which is fine with me really, I mean, it’s not like I’ll recognize any of them anyway, but he usually gets a kick out of the-what?” he stopped, frowning at Melissa’s face. 

“I’m sorry, I thought Scott called you. He’s not here.” Stiles brow wrinkled slightly in confusion. He’d just spoken to Scott last night, he was excited to show him this movie, some sort of comic-book thing. “He ran off this morning with Isaac, something over at the Hales I guess. I thought he told you.” She frowned slightly, her face worried. 

“Oh,” Stiles said, blinking slightly. “I guess he forgot.” He said, still frowning. It wasn’t like Scott to blow him off, ever, really. Scott looked forward to their Bro-Summers more than he did, and that was saying something. 

“I’m sure it just slipped his mind, he’s been so distracted lately.” Stiles nodded absently before a thought occurred to him. 

“Hey, how long has he been hanging with the Hales?” He asked, voice casual if a bit perplexed. Melissa’s eyes slid away from his, taking a sip of her own coffee. 

“Oh, not that long,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. Stiles said nothing, just watched her silently before nodding slightly and getting up to put his cup in the sink. 

“Well, thanks anyway, I guess. Just, let him know I stopped by.” He smiled politely before heading for the door. 

“O-of course, Stiles? Are you okay?” she asked, following him into the entry way. 

“I’m fine, I should really finish the internship paperwork anyway.” He said, giving her a hug before leaving, ignoring her concerned look and pulling quickly out of the driveway and speeding off in the opposite direction of his house. 

Stiles had a suspicion, an awful, terrible suspicion and he really, really hoped he was wrong. He had to be wrong. He was wrong. He just had to confirm his wrong-ness. Besides, Scott would never keep something like that from him, they were best friends, soul-bros, platonic life partners. He’d never lie to him. Not about something like this. 

And yet….And yet. A voice in the back of Stiles mind reminded him of all the times Scott had kept his own hurt from Stiles. To ‘protect’ him. From his asthma attacks. From the fact that he’d broken his arm that one time on the trampoline. Hell, he’d almost died from his appendix bursting simply because he hadn’t wanted to bother anyone. But this….no, there was no way. Stiles drove faster. 

 

“Hello, welcome to Calvin's Library. Home to the worlds largest collection of arcane knowledge and pagan lore, feel free to indulge yourself as you like.” Stiles ignored the bland and unenthusiastic greeting from the teen at the desk and instead made his way to the back of the shop. With a quick glance around him to ensure that he was alone and out of the sight of the cameras, he took out a long stick and tapped on a copy of the Odyssey three times in quick succession. Slowly, as though shaking itself out of sleep, the bookshelf unfolded, revealing a doorway which he promptly walked through, stepping into a dimply lit room covered wall to wall with bookshelves and filled with tables and chairs in a sort of cafe arrangement. 

“Stiles! Long time no see!” A portly balding man grinned at him from behind a coffee bar, a brownish rag cleaning a set of mugs in midair beside him. 

“Hey Hedwin, how’s business?” he asked, taking a seat at the counter. 

“Pretty steady, less entertaining though since you’ve been away. How is the old school anyway?” He asked, casting his wand vaguely beside him, causing the espresso machine to hum into life, making Stiles regular drink. (triple cappuccino, extra foam). 

“Still standing.” Stiles said, catching the cappuccino before it hit him in the nose. “Listen, I had a question.”

“Shoot.” 

“There haven’t been any, I don’t know, undesirables…have there?” Stiles asked, taking a sip and sighing as the warm fuzzy feeling filled him. He loved Hedwins. He really should come here more often. 

“No, not that I can recall. What sort of undesirables we talkin’ here?” 

“Not sure, anything spreadable. Infectious or that would effect the general populace.” Hedwin, frowned in thought, bracing his arms on the bar. 

“Hm, well, nothing that would attract attention really. Though there was that string of animal attacks last year. Bit unusual that, but it sorted itself pretty quickly, only one casualty that I know about.” 

“Casualty?” Stiles hand tightened around his cup. 

“Yeah, the old grounds keeper of the old graveyard turned up have eaten in one of his graves. The No-maj’s called it some sort of animal attack but I always had my doubts. Filed an inquiry about it, but you know how that goes, no one cares about small fish up on the hill.” Stiles frowned. 

“Eaten? Not just mauled or bitten?” He asked, stomach slightly queasy. 

“Yeah, ‘least that’s how I heard it.”

“And there haven’t been any attacks since?” He asked, clinging to one last hope, however flimsy it felt. 

“Nope, just the one.” Stiles let out a small breath, that was good. No more attacks meant…well he wasn’t sure what it meant yet. But it was good at least. He got up, finishing off his drink. 

“Thanks Hedwin,” he said, flipping him a silver coin that landed neatly in a large jar. “Oh, you wouldn’t happen to know the guys name? The one that died?” Better to be thorough, get as much information as he could. 

“Hm, Conner Lahey, I think. Sad really, poor bastard left a son behind. Orphaned now, no mum to take him in and a brother in the military. Damn shame..Stiles?" but Stiles was already gone. 

 

“Hey Stiles!” Scott said cheerily over the phone. “I’m sorry I totally flaked on the movie man, I’ll make it up to you I swear! It’s just this thing came up, I-I forgot I made plans with Isaac and I would have rescheduled but it was kind of time sensitive and I-Stiles?” 

“No, that’s fine Scott. We’ll reschedule.” Stiles said flatly, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear as his fingers flew over his keyboard. 

“Stiles-”

“I gotta go Scott, I’m a bit busy with Internship stuff right now. Call you later.” He didn’t wait for Scott’s response, just hung up and threw the phone over onto his bed where it landed with a thump on top of a rather battered looking old tomb open on what appeared to be a diagram of the vetruvian man. 

“It just doesn’t make sense!” Stiles growled, running an irritated hand through his hair and making it stand at odd angles. Frustratedly he shoved himself away from his desk and turned back to the growing pile of books and parchment on his bed. He picked up an essay he’d written in fifth year and began to scan it, he gave up halfway through and flung it down with a frustrated growl. 

“That doesn’t look good.” He turned to see his dad leaning against his doorway. “What is all this Stiles?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess on his bed which was slowly leaking onto his floor. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair once more. He glared at his bed as though he might scare the answer into appearing on top of his book on Magical History in South America. “Dad, what happened last year?” he asked suddenly, turning to his father. 

The Sheriff raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked

“Animal attacks? Mr. Lahey was found half-eaten in a half-dug grave?” His dad raised the other brow now. 

“How do y-Stiles that was just an animal attack. I had Phil look into it, there’s nothing to be concerned about.” Stiles sighed, leaning back. 

“I just-It doesn’t feel right.” Stiles said, frowning at his bed. John sighed and came fully in the room to attempt and clear a space on the bed and sit. 

“Stiles, is this about wh-”

“No! God, no, it’s not it’s just…” Stiles blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head as though to clear it. “Nevermind, you’re right I’m just being paranoid.” 

“Stiles-”

“I’m fine, dad.” Stiles made himself look his father in the eye, trying to convey some kind of semblance of sanity, in spite of the state of his bed. The Sheriff sighed once more. 

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll pick up the old case file from the station, you can see it for yourself.” A little bit of the tension melted out of Stiles shoulders as he raised his brows at his dad. 

“You sure you’re allowed to do that?” He asked

“I’m the Sheriff Stiles, I’m not going to get in trouble for taking my work home with me, and if you happen to see something well, sometimes that just can’t be helped.” John stood, clapping Stiles on the shoulder before walking out once more. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can we have something for dinner that doesn’t taste like cardboard please?” The Sheriff asked somewhat pathetically and Stiles laughed. 

“Oh I see, you’re just bribing me for the food.” The Sheriff relaxed somewhat, seeing his son smile like he used to. “How’s lasagna sound?” John smiled. 

“Sounds great.” He said and began to walk away. 

“With spinach!” Stiles called after him and chuckled at the resigned sigh as his father clomped down the stairs. 

Alone again, Stiles looked around him at the shrapnel of his researching frenzy. He sighed through his nose and ran a hand through his hair again, this time his thumb caught on the raised ridge of the top of his scar. Gently he followed the line of the scar down towards his shoulder, under his shirt, abruptly he jerked his hand away and stood up, there were a few things he could get done before his dad got home with that case file. 

 

“What’s the face about?” Ryan asked, dropping down on the couch next to Scott, who hadn’t really moved since Stiles had hung up on him. 

“I think Stiles is mad at me.” He said quietly, face screwed up into what the pack affectionately called his ‘thinking face’. 

“Why would he be mad at you?” Ryan asked, taking the impressively sized burrito in her hand and shoving most of it in her mouth at once. 

“I don’t know.” Scott said, a bit sadly. 

“So why don’t you ask?” is what Ryan attempted to say, what actually came out of her mouth, besides bits of tortilla and beef, was something like; “Oh ai doh ooh ass?” But Scott got the gist of what she meant. He was well versed in Ryanese. 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s none of my business.” Scott said, still staring forlornly at his phone as though it had wronged him in some way. He and Stiles hadn’t actually fought since…well since Stiles had up and decided he was going to a private school on the other side of the country. A private school that restricted technology and communication to the outside that didn’t involve literal letter writing. 

Ryan rolled her eyes, swallowing the last of her burrito and sighing in satisfaction. “Dude, just ask, it’s probably nothing.” With a hearty slap on the back that reverberated throughout Scott’s entire body, she levered herself up and strode out of the room into the backyard, hollering for Tobe to get back there and face her like a wolf.  
Scott still wasn’t sure. Really, at all. So he called his mom, cause really she was the smartest person he knew. 

“Scott Manuel McCall!” Scott winced slightly at his mothers tone. He wasn’t sure what he did, but whatever it was it wasn’t good. 

“Hi mom.” He said pathetically. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“What did I do?”

“What did-Stiles! You haven’t told Stiles yet? What the hell is the matter with you?” Scott shrank somewhat into his seat. 

“It’s not my secret to tell mom.” He said feebly. 

“Oh but it was perfectly fine for you to blab to me? Or your girlfriend?” Scott’s stomach clenched slightly in guilt and he could feel his ears heating up. 

“It’s different-”

“Like hell it is! Now, Allison is a nice girl but you’ve known Stiles since you were four years old, the two of you are family! And now you’re telling me you can’t even be bothered to tell him you can’t make it to the movies? I raised you better than that Scott.” Scott hunched his shoulders and a nearly inaudible whine was coming from deep within his throat.  
“I’m sorry mom.” He said softly, eyes huge in his face. He could almost hear his mother roll her eyes on the other end as she sighed slightly 

“Just make this right Scott, you didn’t see him earlier, he looked crushed.” Scott felt slightly ill with guilt as he ended the call, letting his hand fall into his lap. He looked up to see Talia standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised at him. 

“Come on.” Was all she said, gesturing for him to follow her. He considered running away briefly but he was already halfway across the room. Talia walked upstairs and led him to her private study, gesturing for him to sit down, she pushed a plate of snicker-doodles towards him that Enzo had made that morning. They were delicious. 

“So, tell me about Stiles.” She said, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her lap. Scott slumped slightly in his chair, cookie in hand as he avoided her eyes. He told her everything, of course. About how Stiles had beat up Greenberg in daycare. How he and Stiles and Jackson had been the Three Musketeers until elementary when Jackson became popular. How Stiles mom had died in an accident, about his dad leaving. About how Stiles had left for school when they were eleven, how hard it was without him, how much he looked forward to their summers. How scared he was when he got bit and he didn’t have Stiles to talk to because Stiles was in exams and couldn’t be reached. Finally he told her about blowing Stiles off for patrol and then how Stiles had hung up on him earlier. 

Talia was silent for a moment, eyes steady as she looked at Scott. It wasn’t a hard stare, there was no accusation in her eyes, only contemplation, a thoughtful sort of understanding that saw through all of Scott’s bravado into his deeper secrets and didn’t judge him for them. Merely acknowledged who he was and accepted it. It was the look of an Alpha at her Beta and Scott wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it. 

“Scott,” she finally said, startling him out of his reverie. “Do you understand what pack means?” this brought him up short. 

“Of-of course!” He stuttered. How could he not? “Pack is, well…” his voice failed him as he tried to find the words to describe that all consuming, wonderful feeling of pack, the security of knowing they were there even when he couldn’t see them. The safety, the comfort, the happiness. Pack was everything. Talia smiled slightly and leaned forward, bracing her arms on the desk in front of her. 

“Scott, pack isn’t a membership. It’s not defined by the Alpha, there’s no ceremonial acceptance that makes a person a part or not a part. You either are pack or you are not.” Scott frowned and Talia sighed, pursing her lips in thought before continuing. “The pack bond goes beyond the boundaries of thought or choice. You do not choose your pack, your pack chooses you. For example, I did not choose Sara for David, I had no say in whether or not she joined the pack. The same goes for your mother or Vernon’s family. Pack is defined by your feelings, the bonds formed between you. To reject a pack member, to forcibly exclude them is extremely dangerous, and you risk severing the relationship forever, damaging both of you in the process. Scott,” she looked him in the eyes, making sure she had his full attention. “Stiles was your pack long before we were. You don’t need my permission to tell him the truth, and if you want my opinion, you should have told him a long time ago.” Scott wrestled with himself for a minute, struggling with hope, fear and a deep anxiety. 

“What if he doesn’t-what if-”

“Scott, he’s pack. He’ll understand.” 

 

“Scott, just, where are we going?” Stiles asked for the fourth time that evening. When Scott had called him, practically begging him to come with him on some sort of mystery errand, Stiles’ stomach had sank. He tried to reassure himself, it was only a half-moon after all. There was no way….no way. 

“Just, trust me okay? Please?” How could Stiles argue with that? What sort of monster could say no to Scott’s puppydog eyes? It was unfair really. 

They were in the middle of the woods, it was nearly nine at night and Stiles had a really, really bad feeling about this. 

“Okay, okay so, I-I have to tell you something. And it might, well it might shock you a bit and it’ll probably take some getting used to but just-”

“Oh no,”

“It’s okay it’s just-”

“Scott no”

“I’m-wait, what?”

“Please no,”

“Stiles? Are you crying?” Shit he was wasn’t he? He swiped angrily at his cheeks, his heart hammering in his chest as his hands shook almost violently. He stumbled backwards. 

“This-this isn’t happening. Y-you’re not, it’s not, you can’t be. It’s not possible, I saw the report it’s not. Phil said-”

“Stiles you’re not making any sense.” Scott made to reach from him but Stiles jerked back violently. 

“I saw the report!” Stiles yelled, trying in vain to calm himself down. Scott looked at him startled, hands held up in front of him, not moving. He hadn’t seen Stiles have a panic attack this bad since just after his mom died. “Mr. Lahey’s death I saw the pictures! It wasn’t just a wild animal, it, it didn’t look right.” 

“Stiles that wasn’t-” Scott tried, trying in vain to figure out how to calm his friend down and coming up with nothing. 

“It was on a full moon, I checked, but dad he said it was just a mountain lion but they don’t attack like that, they wouldn’t-and no one saw anything. Not anyone. But Aunt Phil she said she looked into it and there weren’t any packs down here, there haven’t been for years and years but I knew, I knew something wasn’t right but not you-not, you can’t be!” Scott was pale now, eyes huge in his face, his worst fears coming true as his best friend in the world looked at him like he was a monster. 

“Stiles I didn’t ask for this!” He yelled, his hurt and anger coming out in spite of himself. Stiles was crying fully now, one hand over his mouth as he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. This is my fault, it’s all my fault.” 

“Stiles what are you talking about?”

“I should have been here, I could have stopped it. I could have helped you.” Scott’s chest clenched painfully as he looked at Stiles. 

“Stiles-it’s not. There’s nothing you could have done. It’s okay, I’m fine now. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to-Scott you’re a-” his voice seemed to fail him as he shook his head, trying to clear it. “And you’ve been through how many moons now? What? Do you chain yourself up in the basement? And your mom-I,” Stiles looked like he was going to throw up. 

“No! Its-it’s not like that!” Scott exclaimed, trying to explain. “Stiles I, I have an anchor, I don’t. I’m fine! I don’t need to be chained up or, no. I have a pack, I’m fine.” 

“A pack!” Stiles looked horrified and Scott actually backed up a pace. 

“Stiles-” Scott’s voice felt raw, his vision swam. 

“No-no I, I’ll fix this. I’ll-I can fix this.” Stiles seemed to be talking more to himself than to Scott now, looking at his hands and nodding absently, as though trying to reassure himself of something. “They’ll understand, you’re just, you’re you. You haven’t hurt anyone, y-you-” he looked up abruptly, his eyes finding Scotts where he was slowly backing up, trying to breath through the pain in his chest. “You haven’t. Have you…”

“Stiles-” 

“No, it’s, I can fix this.” He said again, and Scott couldn’t take it. 

“I don’t need to be fixed! I’m not broken!” His chest heaved. Where had Stiles- he sounded like, but he couldn’t be. Not Stiles. Never Stiles. He backed up again. 

“Scott you’re a monster!” Stiles yelled, his voice sounding broken. Scott wolf howled within him, something deep and important cracking within him as a whimper escaped his mouth, his eyes flashing gold briefly. Stiles eyes flew wide and he stumbled backwards. “You-” he cursed as he fell over.

“Stiles?” Scott called, inching forward. Stiles cursed again and Scott walked closer. “What-holy shit!” how had he not noticed-Stiles yelled and scrambled backwards. There on the ground, concealed in dirt and twigs was the dead body of Old Man Shosser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry that one took forever. This past week or so has been super hectic. Hope you guy's liked this! Let me know in the comments! (still in the market for a beta reader if anyone is interested.)


	5. June 14th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is super cool, Stiles and Scott have A Moment, and the Kanima has been super busy.

June 14th, 2016  
The Preserve

“Okay, spill.” Laura said after they turned off the marked path through the woods, heading towards the eastern edge of the preserve. Derek huffed in annoyance, briefly considering shoving her into a bush. She’d kick his ass but still, it was a nice thought. 

“Laur-” He started.

“Don’t ‘Laur’ me, something is up! Give me the drama bro! Otherwise I’ll be forced to make assumptions and who knows where that could lead me I mean you remember las-”

“Okay, okay, just, it’s not any of our business so just, keep it to yourself.” 

“Of course, of course, now spill!” Laura waved a hand at him, rolling her eyes at his dramatics. 

“So Scott told his friend Stiles-”

“What’s a Stiles?” Derek ignored her.

“-that he was a bitten Lycan, and Stiles apparently had a panic attack and called Scott a monster just before tripping over Mr. Shosser,”

“Who?”

“Sara’s grandpa.”

“That asshole? Sorry, go on.” Derek rolled his eyes, trudging onward and keeping an ear out for anything out of the ordinary. 

“Stiles called the cops, er, his dad I guess. Sheriff Stilinski, his dad, um.” Derek frowned, idly scratching the back of his neck. 

“Wow, you are so bad at telling stories.” Derek huffed again, irritation building. 

“Ugh, shut up, let me finish.” Laura suppressed a snort but waved for him to continue. 

“Anyway, Stiles called the Sheriff and Scott called mom and they both got there at the same time which was, awkward, I guess.” Laura snorted, Derek ignored her. 

“That was last night, the Sheriff took over the body situation, mom took Scott and called Mrs. McCall. Then this morning the Sheriff showed up with Stiles and they’ve been in mom’s office ever since. There, now you’re caught up.” Laura shoved him playfully and he elbowed her in the ribs, making her grunt and kick halfheartedly at his shin, which he easily avoided. She stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Wow, that was a terrible story bro.” Derek rolled his eyes, walking ahead of her. They were nearly there anyway. 

“It’s not a story, it’s just what happened.” Laura rolled her eyes. 

“So mom’s giving them the speech?”

“I would assume so.” Derek said and stopped, sniffing, he smelled…something. He frowned and shook himself, the Kanima had no scent. They’d reached the edge of the preserve and he rolled his shoulders, casting a look over his shoulder at Laura, who was already disrobing. Somehow they’d pulled morning patrol, which meant three times around the preserve, both of them heading in opposite directions. After which time they’d be replaced by his dad and uncle peter, at the moment they were relieving Ryan and David. Derek sniffed, and cocked an ear as the two wolves trotted up to them. Derek was always a little surprised by how red Ryan was, a Lycan’s wolf reflected their inner spirit, so he supposed it made sense. Ryan had always been fairly fiery, whereas David was an earthy brownish color. Derek and Laura nodded to them before shifting themselves, Derek’s bones popping into place, a sigh escaping his lungs at the relief of the full shift. 

They shook themselves out, Derek tossing his massive head and casting a look over at Laura, a lighter brown than David was but not as gold as Cora. Derek much preferred being in wolf form to being a human. For one, he could kick Laura’s ass easier this way, for another, no one expected him to talk. Derek as a wolf was bigger than the rest of his family, and more powerful then anyone but his mother, and possibly Elsa but she wasn’t fully realized yet so they weren’t sure. Derek was massive, standing at least a head taller than his sister, with gleaming black fur that seemed to absorb any light that touched him, piercing icy blue eyes looked out from a creature of shadow and night. Yes, Derek far preferred being a wolf than being a man. He shook himself out once more and began trotting southward, leaving Laura behind him. 

He thought about Scott, trying not to grind his teeth as he began to jog along the edge of the territory. Scott had shown up that morning looking like a kicked puppy, which really, he kind of was. Derek had heard him crying from upstairs, telling Talia what had happened. It made his wolf keen and thrash, needing to protect his packmate. Melissa had been beside herself of course, going on about how it wasn’t like Stiles to be like that. Derek rumbled slightly in his chest. It was just the sort of thinking that hunters had. Monsters, to be fixed, hunted, exterminated. He’d heard it all before. With a growl Derek burst into a run, streaking through the trees silently, quickly, like a shadow. He needed to calm down, quickly, before he found Stiles and ripped him apart. 

 

 

Stiles held his head in his hands, focusing solely on his breathing, he counted. He was dimly aware of his dad talking. He ignored it, sucking air into his lungs and forcing it out once more. Finally his heartbeat returned to normal, his hands stopped shaking, the tension leaked slowly out of his shoulders. 

“So,” he breathed out, slowly sitting up, feeling a thousand years old and more tired than he’d ever been. “You’re a Lycan?” he looked at Scott, whose eyes were bloodshot, his mouth screwed into a frown. Stiles hated that he’d made him that upset but he had to know, he had to be sure. 

“Yeah.” Scott mumbled. “Or at least, a bitten one.” He added, rubbing his arm in a self-comforting gesture. Stiles chest ached, he breathed out a shaky breath. 

“Oh thank God.” He closed his eyes briefly, relief flooding his body. In one flowing gesture he stood and strode across the room to envelope his best friend in a crushing hug. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into Scott’s shoulder. After a moment Scott melted, hugging him back just as tightly. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated, grunting slightly at the force of Scott’s hug. 

“What I don’t understand,” Melissa said after they pulled away. “Is what made you so…em, not you?” She raised an eyebrow at Stiles who blushed slightly and avoided her gaze, glancing briefly at the Sheriff who shrugged helplessly. 

Stiles looked a bit pained for a moment, seeming to mull something over, he rubbed a hand threw his hair, making it stand at odd ends. He glanced furtively from Scott to Talia to Melissa before settling on his dad once more. Finally he nodded to himself and turned to Talia, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. Talia raised an eyebrow. 

“Look, there are certain things I’m not at liberty to say. Not because I don’t want to but because I literally can’t, there are laws in place with very serious consequences and I’d rather not spend the rest of my life in prison for breaking Rule Number One.” He swallowed as Talia raised her other eyebrow, and then he began to take off his shirt. 

“Wha-” Scott started in a startled voice.

“I’m trying to show you why I freaked out okay?” he said and pulled his shirt over his head. He braced himself for the sharp intake of breath, keeping his eyes on the floor as they took in his back.

“Stiles,” Scott breathed, Melissa had one hand over her mouth, her eyes slightly overbright as her head slowly shook back and forth, as though trying to deny what she saw, or asking herself how Stiles was still alive. The Sheriff wasn’t looking at his back, avoiding what he’d already seen in favor of looking at his face, making sure he was okay. Talia made a noise that could have been a growl or perhaps merely a grunt, but when Stiles turned to look at her her eyes were red. He swallowed thickly. 

“Last year I was attacked by what is generally referred to as a werewolf.” He said, keeping his eyes on Talia, afraid to see what Scott looked like at that moment. “A creature infected by a disease, or curse classified as Lycanthropy, which causes a painful transformation into a wolf-like creature once a month. During this time they are unable to control their actions, unaware of the harm that they inflict and without any humanity left within them during this transformation. There are few treatments and no cure. I escaped death or infection only through the efforts of my Aunt and the school nurse.” His voice was wooden, textbook, as though he were reciting a school paper. He took a shaky breath and braced himself before looking at Scott. His friends eyes were over full and a soft whimper escaped his mouth at the pain on Stiles face. “As it was I almost died. When I-when you started to tell me about you-” he swallowed, took a steadying breath. “I was afraid you’d-been infected.” He exhaled, looked Scott in the eye, squared his shoulders. “I don’t blame you for not telling me sooner. I’ve been, ahem, I’ve been keeping my own secrets. Secrets that I can’t tell you, even if I want to. I’m sorry.” He finished and was promptly tackle hugged by his best friend. 

“It’s okay.” Scott said into his shoulder and Stiles felt like crying again.

“Unf.” He grunted as Scott squeezed him. “Scott buddy, can’t breath.” He managed and Scott promptly let go, looking slightly sheepish. 

“Well,” Talia said, huffing a little laugh. “This has been, quite the enlightening morning, wouldn’t you say?” John snorted. “Why don’t we all step into the kitchen, I’m fairly certain Enzo has made waffles.” 

“Yes! Dude you have to try them they’re amazing! I swear they’ll change your life!” Scott cheered, grinning at Stiles who laughed as he pulled on his shirt once more. 

“I do love waffles.” He said and allowed himself to be pulled out of the office and down to the kitchen where he could, indeed, smell something rather delicious smelling. 

“So…wolves huh?” The Sheriff said as the adults made their way down a bit slower. Talia nodded, chuckling slightly. 

“Wolves indeed.” She said, voice soft. 

“Don’t worry, you get used to it, sort of.” Melissa said, smiling wryly. John snorted. 

“Oh, believe me, I know.” He shook his head bemusedly. “Just when you think you get a handle on things something you never expected shows up. Lycans. Amazing.” Talia smiled, shoving her hands in her pockets as they walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh, believe me, you haven’t seen anything yet.” John wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, or the look on Talia Hale’s face when she said it. But, he admitted, he had little say in the matter.

 

Derek had slowed to a trot once more, he’d passed Laura twice though he doubted she noticed, she was still on her first lap. They were supposed to take the patrol slowly, pay attention to the landscape. Sometimes though, he just needed to run. 

Suddenly he stopped, cocking one ear to the left and dropping into a defensive crouch, his instincts humming. Something was watching him. His muscles tensed as he let out a small tremor into the earth, opening his senses completely, letting the everyday sounds of the forest filter through his brain like sand, looking for the one thing that was out of place. He sniffed experimentally, knowing he wouldn’t be able to scent the creature. 

The forest was quiet, unsettlingly so. The birds had hidden themselves away, all manner of creatures, squirrels, a badger from the smell of it, all hidden away. They knew it too, Derek flicked his ears, trying to catch even the slightest sound. There, behind him, a low vibration, a hum of wrongness. 

He only had a half-seconds notice before a green blur sprung out at him from the brush. He leapt out of the way just in time, swiping one giant paw at the overgrown lizard and letting out a ground shaking roar that shook the trees and startled the birds into flight. Derek faced it, crouched low, and weighed his options. He wasn’t good with capture, and mom had told them not to kill it. Derek growled., the Kanima hissed, bracing itself before pouncing at Derek once more. Derek didn’t move, holding his ground and growling at the Kanima, catching it’s face in his mouth he shook it and spit, sending it tumbling in the opposite direction. Derek growled at it again, advancing slowly. The Kanima pulled itself upright, shook it’s head, hissed one more time and threw itself in the other direction, scuttling into the trees. 

Derek was just about to run after it when Laura barreled into him from behind, growling like mad. He snapped at her and made to run after it again only to have his way blocked. He glared at Laura, looking meaningfully after the creature and growling low in his belly. Laura shook her head and pointed with her nose behind him. Derek huffed, shaking his head to clear it before turning. 

He’d been so focused on the creature he hadn’t smelled it, now he couldn’t avoid it. The pungent, rotting smell of a dead body, his heart sank, he turned around and followed Laura over to the rotting corpse hidden in the bushes. Laura whined slightly and he shook himself, preparing to Howl and call the pack to them when something caught his eye. His head jerked him, eyes scanning the trees, nothing, no movement. He blinked, narrowing his eyes slightly and his hackles raised, Laura tensed beside him, turning to face the same direction. The bushes rustled, Derek took a step forward and a fox burst from the leaves and flew down past him, chattering in fear. 

Derek huffed his annoyance and resolutely ignored Laura’s wolfish cackle as he raised his head and Howled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H-okay, hopefully this is good and y'all like it. The next chapter probably won't be for a while sine these next few weeks are a bit busy for me. Anyway, comments and kudos appreciated! (and srsly, anybody wanna be a Beta Reader?)


	6. June 15th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles runs into Lydia and Jackson in a starbucks....also meets a few more of the Hales.

June 15th, 2016 Beacon Hills Starbucks

Stiles blinked fuzzily, stepping forward, stopped, blinked again. Shaking his head slightly he ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the tired away. He ached, from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet. Literally, everything hurt, that was how tired he was. He sighed, shuffled forward again, he just needed caffeine. Caffeine would help, it hadn’t let him down yet. Even it if was Starbucks. He’d considered going to Hedwins but it was just...so far...and he’d nearly crashed twice on the way here. 

He hadn’t slept since Scott dropped the Wolf Bomb, which is what he’d taken to calling it in his head. And then they’d found a third body and his dad had gone off and he’d ended up at a house full of werew-lycans, they were lycans, not...Which was surprisingly okay, really, the Hales were very welcoming. Scott had explained to him about the Kanima, Tobe had declared him his new best friend, and Sara had made him soup. And then he’d discovered the Hale library, which is where he’d been ever since. 

It was just so beautiful! He felt like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, trying to figure out how he could read everything in a single lifetime. He’d made a sizable dent at least, he’d only stopped when his eyes had stopped working properly. 

“Sir?” Stiles blinked, the barista was staring at him worriedly. It was his turn to order. 

“Uh, triple espresso with heavy cream please.” he said, voice a bit flat. He paid mechanically, blinking heavy eyelids and going over to wait for his coffee. 

“Um, excuse me?” he looked over at the arch-toned voice and frowned in confusion. Why was Lydia so tall? Wait…

“Lydia?” He asked, startled. The redhead paused, clearly about to say something scathing to look him over first. 

“Stiles?” she startled, eyebrows raising towards her hairline as she took him in once more. She smirked. “What do they feed you in those private schools?” 

“Like way too many carbs man,” Stiles answered honestly. “But look at you! Scott said you were Queen Bee around here but he didn’t say you were gorgeous.” he grinned, hugging her. “I mean, I expected no less, you were beautiful at five, even I could see that.” Lydia laughed, green eyes sparkling. 

“Yes I remember, although it would seem you’ve become considerably less...energetic, since then.” Stiles grinned. 

“Psch, please, energetic? I’ll have you know I am still King of the Spazes, just because I am currently under caffeinated does not mean I am any less...energetic.” Lydia rolled her eyes as she picked up her drink from the counter, handing Stiles his as well. They walked over to a nearby table. 

“So, tell me about this private school.” she said, sipping her latte as she looked at him calculatingly. “Allison tells me you graduated early?” Stiles recognized that look, that evil _I am going to steal your apple juice _look. He shrugged.__

____

____

“It’s an intense program, privately owned, very hush hush, lots of big names go there so they keep everything need-to-know.” he said. “But what about you? I heard you were dating Jackson now? How’d that happen?” Smooth, Stilinski, he thought, very smooth. 

From the look on Lydia’s face he was not as smooth as he thought and she was merely allowing him to get away with it. She sighed dramatically. “Yes well, you can’t fight love and all that, besides he is deliciously hot.” Stiles snorted. 

“Well I could’ve guessed that, that boy is as vain as a cat and always has been.” he said, Lydia smirked, unoffended. 

“He does spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom.” she smiled. “But he has his moments.” Stiles suppressed an inner sigh, Lydia had it bad. He hoped for Jackson’s sake he was worthy of her. 

“Lydia,” They both looked up to see Jackson himself standing there, and glaring daggers at Stiles. Stiles allowed himself a moment to appreciate that Jackson Whittemore saw him as a threat, and smiled at him. 

“Hello Jackson, we were just talking about you.” Lydia said, voice falsely sweet as she met Stiles eyes. He grinned and tried not to laugh. Jackson glowered. 

“We’re going to be late.” he said tersely and Lydia rolled her eyes. 

“Oh relax Jackson, this is Stiles. You remember, _Stiles _.” She said, emphasizing his name and arching one eyebrow at her boyfriend who blinked, looked for one single moment a bit guilty at not recognizing his boyhood friend, and blinked again, his face sliding back into ‘douche-mode’. He sneered.__

____

____

“Stilinski?” he said, looking him over derisively. Stiles was unimpressed, taking a casual sip of his drink. “I thought you died.” 

“Well it wasn’t for lack of trying.” Stiles said blandly, but Jackson was now pointedly ignoring him. Lydia shot him something of an apologetic look and then allowed herself to be escorted away by the douche-meister of Beacon Hills. 

Stiles looked after them thoughtfully, finishing his drink and trying to reason with his...less kind self. 

 

A loud bang against the table woke Stiles up abruptly, he flailed eyes flying open as he fell out of his chair onto the floor with a rather unmanly yelp. 

Looking around he found himself being glared at by an incredibly handsome man with bushy eyebrows. He blinked. “Um…” he said intelligently. He’d been reading about the mythological origin of Lycan kind and then he’d...fallen asleep, he blinked again. Now he was on the floor. Why was he on the floor? 

“Are you going to stay down there?” Angry Eyebrows asked, glaring at him. Stiles blinked again, feeling rather like a deer in headlights. He recognized Mr. Angry Eyebrows, why did he...oh. 

“Um...no?” he said, and got up slowly. He was still very tired, he hadn’t been asleep for that long. He needed bed, what time was it anyway? He looked at his watch, running a hand over his face, it wasn’t that late, after ten. Then again he hadn’t slept the night before. 

“Do Lycans drink coffee?” he asked, looking inquiringly over at Mr. Eyebrows, who was still glaring at him. 

“Why wouldn’t we drink coffee?” he asked, making a face. Stiles shrugged, unaffected by the Eyebrows of Doom. 

“I don’t know, maybe you’re more into tea, or caffeine is bad for you!” he threw his hands up. “How should I know?” he thought about it a second. “Man that would suck, I could never be a Lycan, caffeine is like, my main food group.” Angry Eyebrows glared at him again before rolling his eyes, turning back to his stack of books, all of which were in ancient Greek, Stiles noted. 

“There’s coffee in the kitchen.” he said, obviously deciding to ignore Stiles, who didn’t care at the moment because coffee. 

“Oh thank God.” he said and left, finding his way to the kitchen where he found a keurig. 

“Oh...who are you?” Stiles looked up, steaming cup of joe in his hands, to see a tall, thin guy with dreadlocks piled on his head, blinking at him startledly. 

“Um, I’m Stiles?” Stiles said. “Scott's friend.” the guy frowned, not looking at Stiles as his blinking slowed down. 

“Oh.” was all he said, and then he proceeded to make tea. Ha! Stiles thought in triumph, Lycans do drink tea. Although, he thought, he had no reason to believe this guy was a Lycan, other than that he was in the Hale house, he didn’t look like a Hale though. At least, not like any of the Hales’ Stiles had met so far. His skin was too dark, and he was quite skinny. Talia and her family seemed to all be dark haired and olive toned with impressive muscles, which Stiles had figured was part of being a Lycan. 

After his tea was made the guy made to leave the kitchen but stopped and turned, not quite looking at Stiles but facing him nonetheless. “What you said about Scott...that was bad.” Stiles blinked. “It hurt, deep, the part that is afraid of the hunters. Some of them, they’re angry about it. Derek is angry, Isaac is angry, it makes my head hurt.” he looked up then, meeting Stiles’ eyes, briefly. “Don’t do it again.” he said, not sounding so much threatening as very...point in fact. He left before Stiles could respond. 

“Viggo?” Stiles blinked, a tall dark skinned man with longer dreads than the other guy had walked in just as he’d left. He turned to Stiles, seeing the startled look on his face, he sighed. “It’s alright, son,” he said, voice heavily accented. “Viggo he, he’s different, doesn’t do things like most.” Stiles could see that clear enough, he knew what autism looked like, that’s not what bothered him. 

“Did-did I hurt the pack?” he asked, voice small. The tall man sighed, and gestured for Stiles to sit at the counter next to him. 

“Stiles, is it?” he asked, Stiles nodded. “I am Anatole, Viggo’s father, Talia’s brother-in-law.” Stiles could see the family resemblance now, not just the dreads but the face, the chin, Viggo looked quite a bit like his father. “Do you know what pack is?” he asked. Stiles frowned. 

“Scott said it was like family.” he said, Anatole nodded slowly. 

“Yes and no. Family is not always as simple as blood, no?” Stiles nodded his understanding. “But it is more than that, for the wolf, the animal in us, we need Pack. Pack is security, sanity, a lone shifter is a dead shifter. Or a mad one. Neither is good.” He reached over and tapped Stiles sternum. “Pack is connected through the Bond of the heart, you were pack long before you knew what that meant. When you hurt one, you hurt all.” Stiles swallowed. 

“So...when I said...what I said.” he swallowed. 

“It affected us all. We all felt Scott’s pain, we all experienced it.” Anatole said slowly, gaze heavy on Stiles’ face. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, voice small. Anatole sighed. 

“You did not know better. We were all ignorant at one time. But we all must learn.” His voice reminded Stiles absurdly of the Lion King and he had to swallow a hysterical laugh. “What Viggo was saying, well, for some it hurts more.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, sipping at his coffee. 

“Do you know what a hunter is?” Stiles didn’t think the cartoonish Elmer Fudd that popped into his head was what Anatole meant, so he shook his head. 

“They are the other side of our world.” he said. “The humans who fear us, who hate us, who call us ‘monster.’” he said pointedly and Stiles tried not to sink into the floor. “For as long as there have been Shifters, there has been Hunter. We have managed a peace, but it was not always so.” Stiles nodded. 

“I didn’t-” he tried, the skin on his back prickling as he thought about the werewolf. 

“I know you didn’t understand. You were frightened and cannot be blamed, you are trying. That is all we ask.” 

“I’m still sorry.” Stiles said honestly. Anatole smiled sadly and patted his back. 

“It is not me whom you should speak to.” he said before leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts and now cold coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, what can I say folks. ADD is a sunovabitch. If you're still reading, then you are a patient saint and I love you. If you're new, good luck. I'm mentally ill and constantly distracted so...here's hoping. 
> 
>  
> 
> (still looking for a beta reader)


	7. June 16th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are revelations and surprise visits from not-so-distant reletives

June 16th, 2016

 

Stiles was running. Blood rushed through his ears in a deafening roar as his heart slammed into his throat. He had to keep going, he had to- he was almost there, just a little bit further- just a little bit... He should have listened to Professor Grimsditch. He should have...he ran faster, legs screaming at him in agony, he could hear the panting behind him- feel it, horrible, heavy, wet panting. A broken sob burst from his throat as he pushed himself forward. His sides hurt, his hands were cold, so cold. Why were his hands cold? Like he'd dipped them in wet paint- he couldn’t think, he couldn’t...the memory pushed at him, the unnatural angle of Angela’s body. He ran faster but it wasn’t enough, his legs were giving out, his knees going weak. The growling was getting closer, that terrible wet pant. Pain erupted on his back and he was falling- falling, the leaves felt too soft against his cheek, he looked over his shoulder into the gaping jaws - 

“Stiles!” Stiles jerked awake, panting and covered in sweat, heart beating out of his chest. His father was leaning over him, hands on his shoulders as Stiles shivered. Stiles blinked, trying to remember where he was. Bed, Dad, Home, not at school, in Beacon Hills. He breathed in slowly, his heartbeat slowing down gradually.

“I’m okay dad.” he said finally, his voice coming out broken and harsh. His dad frowned at him and sat down on the bed with a sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, Stiles tensed, his right hand clenching involuntarily.

“No.” he said and then sighed, running a hand over his face, forcing himself to relax. “And yes.” he looked up at his dad, eyes overbright as his throat constricted. John smiled at him tightly and pulled him into a rough hug, holding him firmly as Stiles curled into him. How long they stayed like that neither of them really knew, but eventually Stiles felt calm enough to start talking.

“It was my fault.” 

“Stiles-” John started but Stiles just kept going.

“It was my idea, Ang-she didn’t want to go. She said she didn’t want to but I made her anyway. I said it would be an adventure, a great story to tell our kids, like we were Harry fucking Potter or something.” John didn’t bother admonishing him for cursing, just running a hand through Stiles’ hair and listening. “There were three of them.” Stiles said, voice tight and small, his body curled up into his dad like when he was a kid and he was scared of the tree outside his window. “I thought they were eating a deer or something, it had to be-but…” he shuddered. “I can still smell it, it didn’t smell like an animal. It didn’t smell right. And Angie she, she made a noise and they looked up and, and then they started to howl and Angie panicked and started running and they chased after and I managed to get one but then I got hit by another one and I heard Angie scream and I looked and-” his voice broke, tears streaming down his face as his mouth worked soundlessly, trying to get the words out. John just held him tighter. “I ran, I threw every curse I knew after them I could, I-I tried but I wasn’t. It wasn’t enough I couldn’t. I couldn’t save her, dad, it was my fault and I couldn’t save her.” Stiles dissolved into tears, burying his head into his father’s lap as he sobbed. John, eyes bright and face tight with worry and anxiety just murmured soothing things into his sons hair as he held him.

He remembered sitting in the Headmaster’s office as they told him what had happened. He’d broken two chairs and an enchanted crystal handed down from Theodrad Fontaine himself. He hadn’t cared. They took him to see the bodies only after he’d raged for nearly two hours. The body Stiles and Angela Moore had walked in on had been that of a local girl who’d gotten lost in the woods. The pack of werewolves were known killers, they'd broken out of a treatment facility in Canada and had slowly made their way south, killing as they went. They favored children.

Angela Moore had been ripped apart. They'd found one creature petrified and had promptly shipped it to a facility to await his trial and eventual execution, they'd found another in pieces strewn about the forest floor. Stiles had literally blown it apart before being chased down and tackled by the final werewolf. It had nearly succeeded in killing him too. When they found him bleeding to death in the woods, covered in the blown up remains of Hunter Greenwald, the last remaining member of the pack.

They told him Stiles was lucky to be alive. That he was lucky to be uninfected. They told him a lot of things but they did not tell him how to deal with this. With his grown son sobbing into his lap like he had when he was seven years old and he’d broken his mother’s favorite vase. It was one of those horrible moments of parental inadequacy where John felt very sharply the terrible absence of his wife. Claudia would have known what to do. But John, he just wrapped his arms around his boy and held on, hoping against hope that he would be enough. 

Derek was pacing, never a good sign in the Hale house, and growling under his breath. Periodically his eyes would flash blue, his hands clenching and unclenching, his heartbeat racketing up as he spiraled towards a panic attack. The shift rippling under the surface of his skin, sharp canines peaking out over his bottom lip as he wore a rut in the library carpet. 

“Care to share with the class favorite nephew mine?” Derek started at Peter’s voice, his uncle leaning casually against a bookshelf as he watched his nephew with hooded eyes. Derek just let out a frustrated growl, glaring at Peter as he raked a hand through his hair. 

“I’m fine Peter, leave me alone.” he ground out, making to leave the library only to be stopped by his aunt. Peter he could ignore, Helena....he winced. 

The short woman looked up at him, dark eyes calculating as Derek attempted to glower at her. Silently she jerked her head forward, gesturing towards the library and backing him into it. Derek went. “Peter dear, go check on Malia.” she said. Peter rolled his eyes. 

“She’s seventeen dearest, it’s not like she needs checking up on.” Peter scoffed, Helena gave him a withering look and he left, shutting the heavy wood door behind him. 

Helena Hale was a compact woman, small and dense and coffee colored with wavy dark hair and the sort of deadly you only see in bad spy movies. She crossed her arms and raised one sharp eyebrow at Derek, waiting. Derek didn’t last very long. 

“He called him a monster.” 

“And?” 

“He’s just the same! Just like every other self-righteous, judgemental, demonizing-”

“Who is this about Derek?” she asked. He started to answer only to be interrupted again. “Stiles? Or Kate?” 

“Derek, you have always made things so hard on yourself.” she said gently, uncrossing her arms to lean on a nearby table. “What that woman did to you was wrong, she was every bit the monster she claimed you were. Why your mother allowed her to live to see the inside of an asylum I’ll never understand.” she shook her head. “But she is not Stiles.” She said firmly. 

The anxiety and rage which had been building inside him suddenly dissipated and he collapsed into a chair, head in his hands. “I just-” he tried, voice strained. Helena sighed. 

“I know it is hard for you,” she said. “Ever since you were little you have been so difficult with yourself. So very fierce and determined.” she smiled, a small quirk of her mouth, she looked at him, reaching over to smooth back his hair. “Get to know this boy, before you condemn him.” Derek made a face and she took hold of his chin, bringing his face up to meet hers. His aunt’s eyes were dark and assessing, and he felt a moment's pity for his uncle. “Did your mother explain to you why the Stiles boy reacted like he did?” Derek shook his head. Helena hummed thoughtfully and let him go, standing up swiftly. “Never judge what you do not understand, Derek.” she said, giving him one more dark look before stalking out of the library. Derek sat there a for a bit longer before getting up to go find his mother. 

 

Stiles had his feet kicked up on the desk as he flipped through the police file for Old Man Shosser’s murder. A tupperware container full of salad and salmon sat beside his dad’s computer as he waited for him to return. Stiles pursed his lips as he read, ticking with his tongue. 

“Stiles-” the Sheriff sighed as he entered his office. “You know you shouldn’t be reading that.” Stiles tried and failed to look guilty. 

“It’s getting worse.” he said, getting up so his dad could sit down. The Sheriff sniffed the container with a resigned sigh before setting in to eat his lunch. He grunted an affirmative as he took a large bite of salmon. 

“The Hales aren’t any closer to finding this thing either,” Stiles said, beginning to pace. “I mean, I know they’re doing their best, and I’m sure they’re very capable. But three bodies, I mean, that’s officially a serial killer in normal cases! Not that this is anywhere near normal, I mean there’s no discernible pattern between the victims, other than that they were all found in the woods, which is like, a huge area and not really-” Stiles froze, hand mid-flail as his eyes went big. 

“What?” his dad said, eyebrow raised as he forced himself to swallow a bite of salad. 

“They were all found in the woods.” he said, as if that explained everything. At his fathers blank look he rushed over to the desk and grabbed the files, spreading them out next to the Sheriffs lunch. “They were all found in the woods!” he said again. 

“Son, you gonna clue me in or am I supposed to guess?” 

“Don’t you see!” Stiles exclaimed, pointing at the first victim.“Jessica was a highschool sophomore, varsity track, a-student, popular girl with a boyfriend and an afterschool job at the bakery. Why would she be anywhere near the woods?” he said, not waiting for an answer before moving to the second victim. “Harold Shosser was seventy-eight years old! He had stage four liver cancer! Why would he leave his house let alone go for a walk in the woods!” he moved to the final victim; Jonathan Spreight. “Jonathan was a librarian! A grade-a geek, like from the 70s complete with a vintage pong machine and an ancient radio! No-girlfriend, the guy was a beanpole, spent all his time saving money for other gadgets, not going for ill-timed hikes!” 

“Stiles, we know all this already, it doesn’t mean anything other than this thing like to dump bodies in the woods.” The Sheriff said, frowning. Stiles sighed frustratedly. 

“No, dad, you’re not seeing it. Why would a kanima, a giant lizard, carry it's kills somewhere else? Not dragged, carried. I mean, how would it even do that?” His dad raised both eyebrows at him, clearly losing patience. “Someone, whoever is controlling the Kanima, is taking the bodies, cleaning up the kill scene, and placing them in the woods, why?” Stiles asked, looking at his dad expectedly. The Sheriff sighed. 

“Just spit it out Stiles.” Stiles rolled his eyes but went to the big map of Beacon Hills on the wall and took the dry erase marker used to mark case notes. He drew a big circle around where the preserve was. 

“This is the Hale Territory, I saw it laid out in their library.” he said. “And these,” he began marking ‘x’s’ along the edge of the circle. “Is where the bodies were found.” he turned to his dad who was standing now. 

“one of the Hales?” the Sheriff said, eyebrow raised. 

“No, don’t you get it. The bodies were placed outside the perimeter of the Hales’ territory. Not buried, not dumped in their territory, but placed just outside, where humans could find them, but why?” 

“It’s- what, framing them?” The Sheriff said skeptically. Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair and getting dry erase marker on his cheek. “Yes and no. See it wouldn’t make sense, normally, since the Hales would never be suspects where the police are concerned but hunters?” he paused. “Hunters would notice, and they would definitely blame the local lycan pack.” 

“Hunters?” the Sheriff said, voice skeptical. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, sitting back on the desk. “One of the Hales said something about them so I did some digging, it’s actually pretty-” he was interrupted when suddenly all the lights went out. He and his dad shared a look. 

“Stay here.” the Sheriff said and took out his gun, walking out into the bullpen quickly followed by Stiles, who never listened, he didn't know why his dad tried. 

The bullpen was chaos, everyone bumping into everyone else as they tried to figure out how to turn the damn lights back on. “Greenberg! Go check the breaker!” someone yelled. 

“I can’t see my own nose, how am I supposed to check the breaker?!” Greenberg yelled back. 

“I’ll do it, just calm down would ya?” That was Parrish, navigating easily around desks and people to try and find the breaker. Only just then someone, probably Greenberg, let out a scream. 

“What the-” a loud hissing sounded and a dark shape crawled over the window towards the roof, soft clicking noises sounding around the room. 

“I can’t see! I can’t-” the officer let out a gurgled yelp as the Kanima dropped on him. Cursing under his breath, Stiles muttered a spell under his breath and brought out his wand. Suddenly able to see in the dark he made out the Kanima walking on the ceiling. Bringing his wand up he stepped between his dad and the monster and let out a series of curses. 

The Kanima dropped from the ceiling, avoiding the spells and ducking behind a desk. Stiles swore as he tried again, and again, accidentally hitting Tanner, the desk sergeant, who fell to the ground with a pained grunt, Stiles winced in sympathy but kept his attention on the Kanima. 

“Stiles look out!” the Sheriff yelled, pulling Stiles backwards just as the Kanima leapt at him. They tumbled backwards in an ungainly heap as the Kanima crept forward, tongue flicking out to taste the air. 

Stiles brought up his hand and only to find he’d dropped his wand, casting about in a panic he saw it off to the left and reached, the Kanima creeping closer, toying with him, taking it’s damn time. Stiles met its gaze, terror seizing him as it's yellow eyes followed the path of his hand. Then, just as his fingers closed around the smooth wood the creature jumped, jaws gaping with it’s claws outstretched. With a yell Stiles tried to bring up his wand but too late, too late he was crushed, he was smothered he was...oddly enough alive. He blinked. 

The Kanima was petrified, frozen inches from his body, reptilian eyes rolling to keep him in view. Stiles looked at his wand, bewildered, he hadn’t, but then how- suddenly the Kanima was lifted off of him to float in mid air, held aloft by...Aunt Phil? 

Stiles sighed in relief. Phil winked at him as he got to his feet. Looking around him he saw that everyone in the station, sans him and his dad, were frozen still. He whistled, impressed. “Nice, mom’s memory charm?” he asked, Phil nodded. “Still can’t quite get that one right.” he said, dusting himself off. 

“Just couldn’t keep yourself out of trouble, could you Stiles?” Phil said, smiling at her nephew before addressing the Sheriff. “I have to admit, when you sent me the file I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Certainly not...well, this.” she said in reference to the giant lizard. “Not sure what to tell the boys back east, they’ll probably want to study it in the dungeon.” she said distastefully, eyebrow raised. Just then the Kanima twitched violently and Phil cursed as it burst into motion, thrashing in air as Phil struggled to keep a hold on it, a claw caught hold of a desk and it used the leverage to propel itself to the ground, leaping out the nearest window and vanishing into the growing dusk. Phil, Stiles and the Sheriff ran to the window. 

“Oops?” Stiles tried, Phil glared. 

“What the bleeding hell is going on in this town?” she demanded, but before they could answer she rolled her eyes and waved a lazy hand causing the rest of the station to spring back into motion. “They lose intelligence after a certain amount of time.” she said. “Oh, and they all believe that a bear broke in and began mauling people.” 

Stiles looked on, incredulous as people ran around exclaiming and calling ambulances and animal control and all manner of other things. The Sheriff gave a rueful look towards Phil before plunging into the madness and trying to instill order. 

“You will explain yourself now.” Phil said and began leading them out of the station, Stile having to skip to keep up with her longer strides. 

“Look, it’s a really long story and-” Stiles stopped short when he saw Mr. Angry Eyebrows and an equally attractive though far less angry woman running up to them. 

“Stiles,” Mr. Angry Eyebrows said tersely. “We-” his eyes flicked to Phil and back as he amended his statement. “heard there was a...disturbance.” Phil snorted, looking them both over skeptically before nodding. 

“Yes,” she said. “You will help my nephew explain to me what is happening in this town.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me, staying on schedule and stuff. Maybe I'll even finish this thing, who knows! The world is full of possibility.


	8. June 17th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which many tense conversations are had, the Kanima is found, and many questions go unanswered

June 17th, 2016  
The Hale House

“I beg your pardon?”

“We have the situation complet-”

“Like shit you do! After what I just walked in on-”

“And I’m sure if you hadn’t-”

“If I hadn’t my nephew would be dead!”

Philippa Krol is a terrifying witch. Tall and beautiful with long dark hair and stern features, clad all in black with broad shoulders and a sweeping gaze. She was the best of both sides of her family, from the brilliance of her father’s Polish ancestors, to the ferocity of her mother’s. As a child Stiles had been convinced that the majority of what his aunt did for a living was eating trolls for breakfast and terrorizing dark wizards for fun. As it was, that wasn’t so far from the truth. Phil had faced dark wizards, giants, trolls, necromancers and beasts of immeasurable darkness, she had stood down dragons and griffins and centaurs and yes, even werewolves. However, Talia Hale was proving to be something of a challenge. 

“Soooo…” Stiles tried, sitting awkwardly between Scowly McScowly and Hot Sister Hale. “You guys have pretty good coffee.” he was on his third cup, and yes, it was delicious. Oddly enough it tasted like blueberries. “You buy locally or..” he trailed off at a particularly loud exclamation from Phil. 

“Dad orders it online,” Laura, Sourwolf(otherwise known as Derek)s twin sister said. “Nicaragua I think.” Stiles nodded, taking another sip. 

“It’s um...good.” Stiles winced as someone, he suspected Talia, growled. 

“Your aunts um…”

“Yup.” awkward pause-another sip of coffee-the sound of something crashing in the other room.

“Aunt Talia is angry.” They all looked up to see Viggo standing in the doorway, blinking towards the direction of the living room where Phil and Talia were having it out. Derek snorted. 

“Did they wake you?” Laura asked, Viggo didn’t respond but walked over to sit across from them at the kitchen island. 

“I wasn’t asleep.” 

They sat in awkward silence for a bit as Laura got up to make tea for Viggo, something foreign and spicy, and probably better for him than blueberry coffee. Stiles stared into his cup, warming his hands as he listened to his aunt scream Polish insults at Mrs. Hale. 

“Huh, creative.” Viggo said thoughtfully, sipping his tea. 

“What?” Stiles asked, looking up. 

“ _Broda merlina_.” he said, repeating what Phil had said. “Merlin’s beard. Strange.” he took another sip. 

“Oh, um, yeah..” Stiles floundered. “She’s...not from here.” Derek raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Derek said very little, really. Or else he just really didn’t like Stiles, which okay, rude. He didn’t even know Stiles. 

Suddenly the double doors leading into the kitchen burst open and Phil strode in, eyes blazing. “Stiles we’re leaving.” she said and proceeded to stride towards the front door. 

“Um,” Stiles rushed after her. “We ah, I mean, that is. What did-” a warm hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see Talia behind him, face hard. 

“Stiles is a member of my pack, he is welcome to stay here at any time he wishes.” she said, voice cold and steely. 

“Stiles is _my_ family, _my_ nephew. _Pack_ or not he belongs with his own people.” She said, spitting out the word ‘pack’ like a curse and grabbing hold of Stiles hand. 

“Stiles is under my protection, his safety is my responsibility.” Phil’s eyes blazed as she stared at Talia. 

“If I were to leave him in your care he would be dead within the week! Come, Stiles.” she said, tugged insistently, though Talia’s hand remained heavy on his shoulder. Stiles was beginning to feel like a rag doll. 

“I am fully capable of protecting my own pack.” Talia’s eyes flashed red as her hand tightened. 

“Ha! Is that what you call protection?” Phil’s accent was beginning to thicken, color high in her cheeks. 

“Guys! Guys!” Stiles tugged himself free of them both and put his hands up, hoping he wasn’t about to get mauled or cursed. Looking up he saw a crowd of people on the second story landing, clearly woken up by all the shouting and growling. With a sigh he turned to his aunt first. 

“Look, Auntie, I love that you’re here, and I know you mean the best. And by all means, we would _love_ ,” he shot a look towards Talia “to have your help. _Trust_ me, we could use it.” Talia gave Phil a skeptical look, arms crossed. “But you have to understand that we’re out of our depth here, Auntie, this is _their_ home, _their_ world. We don’t know what we’re dealing with, they do.” Phil narrowed her eyes but before she could say anything he turned back to Talia. 

“Alpha Hale, I apologize for any rudeness, but like I told you before, we can’t tell you anything about our...sort.” he said, “literal laws are in place and neither of us wants to spend the rest of our lives in prison.” Talia narrowed her eyes at this and glared at Phil. “But _trust_ me.” he said, emphasizing ‘trust’ as he looked Talia in the eye. “You need Phil’s help, this is sort of, what she does. Although,” he turned to Phil. “probably best not to tell, anyone _else_ , about this just yet.” he said, meaning anyone at all in the wizarding world. He wasn’t sure yet how they’d react to a whole other community of magical beings but..well, considering the fights for Goblin and Centaur rights at the moment, he was guessing it wouldn’t be favorable. 

There was a tense moment of silence as both women looked mutinous. Stiles sighed exasperatedly. “Just, shake on it, okay?” he said, giving them both meaningful looks. When it didn’t look like they were going to comply Stiles rolled his eyes. “Shake on it right now or I swear I will march out into the woods this very moment and hunt this thing down by myself!” he exclaimed. Phil gave him a withering look before rolling her eyes and holding her hand out towards Talia, who gave it a derisive sniff before shaking it once, firmly, and dropping Phil’s hand like it burned her.

“Now, let us by all means go and retrieve this ‘kanima’.” Phil said frostily before sweeping out the front door. Stiles sighed, shooting an apologetic look towards Talia before following his aunt. 

 

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.” Scott said for the thousandth time. 

“Scott buddy, I told you, we don’t have a choice.” Stiles said, ducking under a branch. 

“See, now that’s where you’ve lost me, who are we protecting again?” Cora asked, walking silently beside them through the brush. Stiles rolled his eyes, tripped over a branch and nearly face-planted. Scott caught him just before he landed in a fresh pile of deer poop so, yay for soulbros. 

“Look, there are a lot of things you don’t know about my Aunt, understandable really, there’s a lot I don’t know either. But one thing I do know is that that woman works alone, emphatically alone, and she definitely tends to...shoot first, ask questions later.” It figured that the one thing Talia and Phil would agree on was that everyone under the age of eighteen was to stay at the house with Sara and Enzo. Stiles politely declined to acquiesce to their request. 

“She has a gun?” 

“Well, not exact-”

“Cause I didn’t see a gun.” Stiles sighed. 

“Just, give me a little trust here, okay?” he said, side stepping a twig and tripping over a rock. 

“I do trust you Stiles it’s just that Talia said-” Stiles shushed him, an uneasy feeling filling his gut. 

“Wait,” he whispered, the hair sticking up on the back of his neck. “Something’s not right.” 

“What-” Boyd pushed Erica down as a bullet grazed the tree where her head had been. 

“Run!” Stiles yelled, bursting forward only to be easily outstripped by the wolves. With a sigh he tried to push himself faster only to have Boyd turn back and lift him bridal style and carry him off. He heard the muffled thud of more bullets narrowly missing them as they sprinted through the trees. As he watched Cora braced one foot on a tree and jumped forward, arms out as she shifted into a giant wolf, clothing falling to the ground. And okay that was the coolest thing he’d ever seen, and way less terrifying than werewolves shifting. Stiles gaped, jolting along in Boyds arms as he watched the huge bronze colored wolf run ahead of them. 

Suddenly they broke through the trees only to skid to a halt at the river, Cora whining as she pawed at the water. Turning with a low growl Cora placed herself between them and where the hunters presumably were as Stiles flailed down from Boyd’s arms, cursing all the while. 

“I so better not get in trouble for this,” he muttered, pulling out a long stick and waving it in the air, a shimmery film burst out of the tip, like sheer gauze that flowed and rippled until it surrounded them, glittering gold in the dawning light. Stiles watched, wide eyed and arms raised as a hail of bullets rained down, bouncing off of the glittering gauze like it was the hardest of steel. 

“Whoa.” Scott breathed. 

Suddenly Cora growled and Stiles looked over his shoulder to see black clad figures emerge from the trees across the river, armed to the teeth and aiming at them. Cursing under his breath he moved to expand his shield, but too slowly, the glittery wall still moving as they opened fire. Stiles heart stuttered, his body seizing up as he braced himself. Only... their bullets had apparently gone wide, missing them entirely as they aimed not for the group of teens but the trees. A heartbeat passed, two, three, and suddenly the hail of bullets ended, leaving an eerie silence as the black clad figures vanished once more into the woods. 

“Well that was…” Isaac started

“Weird.” Boyd finished. 

 

“Of all the foolish! Harebrained! Idiotic-” Phil had been going on for a while now, switching languages periodically to berate Stiles more thoroughly. Talia it seemed had perfected scolding to such a degree that she could accomplish the same task nonverbally. Probably a wolf thing, Stiles thought, cringing into the Hales couch as his aunt laid into him. “After everything you’d been through I would have thought you off all people would have known better!” she exclaimed, furious as she glared at him. 

Stiles maintained that his concern had been entirely valid. As it was Talia and her pack had found the Kanima first, and had captured it successfully. Phil, on the other hand, had found it’s master, which was unfortunate for him. But good for Stiles since he was human, and therefore mostly safe from Phil’s more violent tendencies. 

Derek and Laura had found them by the river not long after the incident with the shooting, and had been wholeheartedly unsympathetic to their pleas of silence concerning the whole escapade. Ever since everything had been chaos and yelling, as far as Stiles could tell. The vet had been called, for some reason, and they’d secured the Kanima in the Hale’s basement. Apparently Allison’s grandpa was its master and Phil had taken the honor of binding him in a separate part of the expansive house. The Argents had been called, along with apparently everyone else, meaning Allison was here, as well as a bunch of her relatives from France, all of whom were yelling at one another in french. 

At least the Sheriff wasn’t here, thankfully, or not depending, he was caught up in work, wrapping up paperwork for this whole mess. Stiles assumed, since no one had actually explained anything to him, that the people shooting at them had been working for Gerard, and that they’re unlikely saviors had been the Argents extended family. But really, he had been awake for far too long to be able to deal with any of this, up to and including the scolding he was getting from both his aunt and Talia Hale’s eyebrows. He totally understood where Derek got it from now, definitely a family trait. 

“Stiles just-” his aunt cut herself off, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a steadying breath. Guilt welled up in Stiles chest as he saw the worry and strain on her face, he sunk lower in the couch. Phil turned to Talia. “I thank you, Alpha Talia, for all you have done for my nephew. But, now as it seems things are well handled,” she shot a look to where Sara Hale was having furious argument with some tall blond man with a french accent. “I would like to take Stiles home now.” 

Talia nodded, seemingly taken aback by Phil's politeness. “Of course.” Phil sighed again and jerked her head at Stiles, gesturing for him to follow her to the door, skirting around Sara and French Angry Guy. 

“He is one of ours! That makes him our responsibility!” the French guy was saying. 

“He _was_ your responsibility, and now three people are dead.” Sara hissed, blue eyes narrowed as she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him ferociously. Phil turned, regarding the French Guy with one arched eyebrow before turning to Sara. 

“Gerard Argent will be taken care of shortly, I assure you,” Phil said, dark eyes gleaming. 

“Aunite-” Stiles started. 

“He is a murderer, Stiles, I cannot ignore that.” Phil snapped. “I can amend the details to exclude the” she snapped her eyes back to where Talia was still scolding with her eyebrows. “Others. But he must be taken care of.” 

“And he will be.” they turned to see an absolutely terrifying red headed woman walk in the front door. 

“Victoria.” Talia had joined them at some point. 

“Talia.” Victoria said, and turned her attention towards French Guy. “Abe, thank you for your assistance, but I will take it from here.” Abe looked liable to argue but thought better of it, nodding obediently and abruptly walking out, taking with him the crowd of black clad people he’d brought in. 

“Victoria, was it?” Phil started but Victoria cut her off. 

“Gerard will go to the Kalfa to await trial and execution for his crimes.” Victoria said icily. 

“I beg-” Phil started again only to be interrupted once more. 

“I thank you for your assistance in this matter, and I assure you leniency will not be granted. Gerard has forfeited his place among us as a hunter by aligning himself with that monster, what is more he has been party to the murder of three innocents. For that there can be only one consequence.” And with that she swept up the stairs towards the room where Phil had secured Gerard, followed by her fellow hunters, not including Allison. 

Phil glowered, blowing a frustrated breath from her nose before moving again to leave, only to be stopped by a howl and a yip followed by a series of furious growls, all coming from the basement. 

Without speaking they all ran for the basement, Stiles falling in behind his aunt as they descended into the wide space. It was bigger than Stiles had imagined, and looked rather like a really expensive gym, wide and open with lots of space for flinging one another around. In the center there was the Kanima, keening and screeching it’s fury as it flung itself against some invisible shield. 

Confused Stiles looked around to see the Vet standing with both hands raised, face intense and focused as he stared at the circle of ash surrounding the beast. Stiles noted the eldest Hale, David, leaning against a wall and shaking his head. Sara rushed over to him. Laura was snarling at it while Derek wiped blood off his face. 

“What happened?” Talia asked, voice sharp. 

“It broke the circle,” Derek said, straightening and glaring at the creature, eyes flashing blue. “Deaton cast another one.” 

“I won’t be able to hold him for much longer.” Deaton said, voice strained. Talia rumbled, low in her chest as she stalked forward. The Kanima hissed at her, back arched. She sniffed, growling audibly now as her eyes faded to red, face blazing. Suddenly she opened her mouth and loud out an ear shattering _roar_ that shook the very foundation of the house. Phil grabbed Stiles and shoved him behind her as she backed up towards the wall, eyes never leaving Talia. 

Slowly, the roar faded and Stiles blinked to clear the spots from his vision, leaning around his aunt to see the creature convulsing in the circle, whining in pain. Suddenly the scales began to shrink, it’s body shortened, joints shifting with a sickening pop and pink skin showed through. All at once, Stiles was no longer looking at a creature, but rather at Jackson Whittemore, curled up and crying on the basement floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story, a friend of mine recently introduced me to blueberry coffee...it changed me.


	9. June 18th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil goes back to New York, and Stiles attends Elsa's thirteenth year celebration. 
> 
> Oh, and Lydia and Danny show up at the Hale House.

June 18th, 2016  
The Hale House

Enzo blinked, ear twitching as his mind slowly caught up with his senses. It had been a very long day and he’d nearly passed out in the kitchen sink before Sylvia had shoved him upstairs and ordered him to bed, saying she’d handle everyone else. He hadn’t argued that much, as it was, he’d barely made it upstairs, let alone into bed. 

Now he sat up, Talia’s muffled snores beside him. He cocked his head, listening for heartbeats. Closing his eyes he breathed in, quieting his breathing, pushing away Talia’s mumbling beside him. Mentally he ran through everyone on this side of the house, breathing in and allowing his senses to expand. Finally, with a sigh, he got up quietly and put on his slippers. 

Slowly he made his way down to the den, walking in to find his youngest curled around a cold cup of tea, sniffing quietly to herself. She looked up as he came in, her big brown eyes ringed in red and her cheeks splotchy from crying. He tutted, something tight twisting in his chest as he gently removed her tea cup and lifted her in his arms and sat, holding her curled up on his chest like he had when she was small. She was getting so big, he realized, his little star.

“Tell me, _estrellita_.” Elsa snuffled and buried her face into her father’s neck. 

“Everything is awful!” she sobbed, voice broken and quiet. Quietly he rubbed her back in small circles. “It was supposed to be bright and wonderful, like Cora’s and Laura and Derek’s and everyone else’s but it wasn’t, it was dark and horrible and I hate it!” her small body shook with her sobs as she soaked his shoulder with her tears. “Papa I hate it so much! It’s not fair!” 

Enzo rumbled quietly in his throat, small comforting sounds to help sooth her as he continued to rub her back. “I know, _cariña_ , I know.” he said, voice low and soothing as she cried. “It wasn’t fair and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” he continued to mutter low reassurances and held her until her sobs quieted. 

Finally she sat up, her face red and her eyes swollen, cheeks wet. Tutting Enzo used his thumb to wipe away her tears. “Oh, _mi amor_. I suppose it’s not too early to tell you happy birthday?” he said gently, smiling at her encouragingly. She let out a sad chuckle as she wiped at her face. 

“Thank you Papa,” she sighed, taking a breath and curling tighter on his lap. “It’s not just that, I mean, _it is_ but.” she sighed again, her chin wobbling precariously. “I love the Summer Solstice, not just because it’s my birthday and everyone gets to celebrate it together.” She blinked quickly, furiously fighting more tears. “I love the dancing and the feasts, Granny’s prayers and Aunt Sylvia’s incense and her chanting.” Enzo smiled as Elsa chuckled wetly. “I love the stories and the fire and the togetherness and-” she let out an aborted sob as she angrily wiped at the tears still streaking down her face. “And the one year that was supposed to be _mine_ , _my_ year it was just-blood and death and monsters and I hate it!” She said passionately, eyes bright. She looked at her Papa and her chin wobbled as her face crumpled, “Papa am I cursed?” she asked, her voice hopeless and small. 

Enzo’s arms tightened around her and pulled her head to his chest once more as he resisted the urge to growl. “No, no.” he said vehemently. “Elsa, _mi estrellita_ , never.” he took her by the shoulders and met her eyes, miserable and wet. “None of this was your fault! Never! Do you understand me?” sniffing she nodded and he crushed her to his chest once more. “Sometimes, thing just happen. It has nothing to do with you, or anyone else. Bad people do bad things. We are here to make sure they pay for those things.” Elsa sniffled quietly and nodded into his chest. 

They sat quietly like that for a while more before Enzo felt her begin to drop off. Gently he stood and carried her to her room, tucking her in and pressing a soft kiss to her brow. “Sleep well, _mi güera_.” he whispered and ducked out of her room. 

“Is she okay?” Talia asked when he got back in bed. 

“She will be.” he said, taking his wife's hand and kissing it. 

“I’m afraid it hasn’t been a very good thirteenth solstice for her.” Talia said sadly. Enzo grunted, that was the understatement of the year. 

“She gets her mark tomorrow.” Enzo said after a moment. “How did time move so fast?” he asked, turning to his wife, tears now in his own eyes. 

“Oh, Enzo.” She said, leaning over to kiss them away. “That’s how time works, the more you want to stand still the faster it moves.” Enzo sniffed, frowning petulantly. 

“I don’t like it.” he said and Talia chuckled. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. It was a long while before either of them fell back asleep. 

 

“I have to go, Stiles.” 

“What? So I’m just supposed to deal with this on my own?” 

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic!”

“You’re always dramatic.”

“Thanks dad.” 

“Anytime.”

Phil sighed, rubbing her forehead as she looked at her nephew. “They didn’t want me to leave in the first place.” she said tersely, hands on hips. “Goblin negotiations are threatening to fall apart, there’s a tribe of Centaurs in Canada who are making threats and ever since the Minister passed that damn werewolf rights law my jobs been damn difficult.” 

Stiles groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Exactly! The wizarding community can’t even handle magical beings who have been a part of our world for centuries! How are they going to handle a whole community of new things?” 

“Not well.”

“Not helpful, John.”

The Sheriff just shrugged, finished his single allowed cup of coffee for the day and stood up, shrugging on his coat. “I’m just saying, kids got a point.” he winked at Stiles who grinned back, he loved his dad. “Anyway, I have to go to work. Phil, always a pleasure.” he ignored her snort as he picked up his keys. “Stiles, try not to do anything too catastrophic will you."

“Please, when have I ever?”

“Vampires, Stiles. _Vampires_.” John gave Stiles a withering look to which Stiles had no reply. 

“No fast food!” he called after him instead. John just grunted and waved goodbye before shutting the door behind him. 

“I have enough to worry about without adding damn Lycans to the mix.” Phil muttered, hands on hips. “Just, try not to break any laws, and for the love of Merlin, Stiles, _stay out of trouble._ ” She said, giving him a hard look. 

“What? Like I go looking for things to eat me?”

“Yes!” okay, fair point. 

“So you’re not going to tell MACUSA about this?” Stiles asked instead. Phil sighed. 

“Not yet, at least.” she frowned, chewing on a nail. “Your friends have all been obliviated, and I’m certain Talia Hale knows nothing. I have to start a process though, just in case something happens.” Stiles started to protest but Phil just held up a hand and glared. “I have to Stiles. We need to cover our asses, if they find out that we knew about a dangerous race of magical species and did nothing? We’ll be lucky if we get life at Arkos.” Stiles still glowered. “I know you don’t like it but it is the way it is.”

“Fine.” Stiles said, arms crossed. Phil sighed again. 

“I have to go, Stiles.” she said, looking at him worriedly. “Remember what I said.” Stiles let the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he stood to hug his aunt. 

“Good luck with the Goblins.” he said and she grunted. 

“Please, the Goblins are easy, it’s damn Treadway that needs a muzzle.” she squeezed him back just as tightly and then apparated, leaving Stiles alone in his kitchen. 

“Well, now what.” he asked the sink. It was not forthcoming. 

 

“Whats wrong?” David asked, walking into his mothers study to see her glaring at her phone. She set it down carefully and braced her arms on her desk, eyes narrowed. 

“That was the Whittemores.” she said, voice tense. 

“And?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

“ _And_ , they are too busy to take care of him right now and have requested that we just keep him here until he wakes up.” David raised both eyebrows at this. 

“They-what?” he asked, incredulous. “Did they even ask where he’d been all night?”

“They weren’t aware he was missing.” she said, voice clipped. David made a small noise of disbelief, his eyes flashing yellow briefly. 

“How-wh-I- _really_?” he asked finally, his mother stood up straight, hands on hips as she shook her head, mouth a tight line. 

“Yes, really.” she said, and stalked out of her office, making her way to the small sitting room where her mother liked to sit. 

“He’s still asleep.” Edie said when her daughter walked in. 

“I know.” Talia said, sitting down beside her mother, picking up one of the balls of yarn Edie was crocheting from and beginning to slowly unwind it as her mother continued to stitch together what looked like a turquoise baby blanket with an intricate swirling pattern of waves. 

“She’ll be a wonderful healer.” Edie said, starting a new row and weaving in the darker blue for the wave. “Poor little Davey won’t know what hit him.” 

“I’m sure he’ll handle it.” 

“Of course he will, he’s got Sara.” Edie chuckled. “Any daughter of her’s will certainly be something.” 

“She certainly will be.” Talia smiled. “I was so happy for him when he brought her home. She’s so good for him.” She smiled down at her lap, fingers gently unwrapping the yarn. “He needs someone to hold him steady, keep him from getting lost.” She sighed, leaning back in her seat. 

“I worry about Ryan and Derek though,” she said after a moment, the only noises in the small room Edie’s needle clicking against her nails. “For completely different reasons of course.” she huffed, shaking her head. “Ryan’s always been so wild, reckless. She reminds me so much of uncle Roger.” Edie snorted. 

“She’s hardly that bad dear, that man hardly had two marbles to rub together. Ryans a smart girl.” 

“I know she is mama.” Talia rubbed a hand over her bottom lip, lost in thought. “I just worry. And Derek,” her face tightened, eyes darkening as she pursed her lips. Wordlessly Edie reached over and rapped her on the head, none-too gently either. 

“Stop worrying,” Edie said. “You’re a good mother, and a good alpha. Derek is a strong boy, he’ll manage. As will the rest of your pups.” she said, sightless eyes blinking dreamily as her fingers continued to weave together intricate swirls and knots in the blanket. “I see a good future for that boy.” she said quietly, a small smile on her face. Talia raised an eyebrow at her mother. 

“This is the first I’m hearing of this.” she said, somewhat indignant. 

“I don’t have to tell you all my secrets, girlie.” Her mother said, contrary as ever. “The wolf and the fox,” she cackled. “What a thing.” she shook her head, still laughing. 

Talia considered questioning her further but experience had taught her it would be fruitless. Her mother would tell her only as much as she felt necessary, and nothing more. So, she stood up, stretching and looking out the window at the woods, sunlight streaming through the leaves. She might go for a run, she thought, clear her mind, get out of this damn house for a change. 

“Adopt him.” blinking Talia frowned at her mother, shaken out of her reverie. 

“What?”

“The lizard boy.” 

“Mother it’s, it’s not that simple. He’s not like Isaac, he has parents.” Edie gave an unladylike snort. 

“Impostors, they’re no more his parents than I am a chicken.” she said, shaking her head. While Talia agreed, it still wasn’t that simple. 

“I can’t just-”

“Just what? Allow a lone omega to live amongst indifferent strangers who don’t care whether he lives or dies?” Edie said, setting her hands down to turn those opaque eyes up at her. 

“Mother-”

“Take him in, and the other two as well.”

“What other two?”

“They’re not here yet? Hmph, children these days, no concept of punctuality.” she tsked, taking up her needle once more. 

Talia frowned at her mother, debating breaking her rule and attempting to question her further, but she thought better of it. Walking out of the study she was about to go check on the boy in question when she heard a car make the turn off the highway onto their road, frowning she turned for the porch. 

 

By the time Lydia pulled up in her Mercedes Talia was standing in front of her door, arms crossed, watching curiously as the lovely redhead and the tall hawaiian boy climbed out. She smiled as Lydia saw her and proceeded to stomp determinedly up to the porch, tossing her hair over one shoulder. Talia’s nose twitched as Lydia got closer, and the corner of her mouth ticked towards a smile. 

“Excuse me,” The Hawaiian boy asked politely, beating Lydia to the punch. “We’re looking for a friend of ours,” he smiled, pulling a photo out of his pocket to show her. “He’s about my height, athletic, looks kind of like an angry model most of the time.” Talia did smile then. 

“And you are?” she asked, amusement coloring her voice. The boy opened his mouth to answer but Lydia cut him off. 

“Where is he? We know he’s here, we traced his cell phone and we’ve contacted the police, I’m sure they’ll be arriving here any minute.” she glared furiously as she pushed in front of the boy. Talia raised both eyebrows this time, fighting off a grin as she looked the girl up and down. 

“I’m sure the Sheriff has better things to do.” she said, moving her hands to her hips as she looked down her nose at them both. “Jackson is currently sleeping, he’s had a very long few days and could use the rest and I will not have you disturb him.” Lydia looked liable to interrupt again so Talia raised her voice slightly. “Now, who are you?” 

“I’m Danny, Danny Mahealani.” the boy said before Lydia could spit fire. “This is Lydia Martin, we’re his friends.” he said, shooting Lydia a warning look. “We’ve been looking for him for a while.” he said, still polite and respectful, relying on his considerable charm to get him further than Lydia's bossiness, “Is he okay?” 

“Jackson is well, I’m sure when he wakes up he’ll be glad to see you.” finally, she turned and beckoned them inside. “I’m sure my husband has something in the fridge if you’re hungry. You’re welcome to wait, if you like.” she led them into the kitchen where she started a pot of coffee and sat down. 

“We do.” Lydia said crisply, sitting primly down at the counter. 

“We just came from his parents house.” Danny offered, accepting a glass of water when Talia asked. “They were...less than helpful.” Lydia made a small noise of rage which could be taken for agreement. Talia struggled with her own feelings towards the Whittemore's before settling on a benign smile. 

“I’m sure.” she said tightly. “I spoke with them earlier.” she said, nose twitching in irritation. 

“How long has he been asleep?” Lydia asked, well, she demanded. Talia raised a slow brow at her before answering. 

“Since late last night.” 

“Where was he?” 

“Lost.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means we found him.” 

“Ex-”

“Oh, hello.” They turned to see a sleepy Scott standing in the doorway. It was nearly noon but after the late night the day before, most of the house was still asleep. Scott was dressed in sweats and a rumpled T-shirt, hair sticking up in the back. 

“Scott,” Talia nodded at him, small smile in place. Blinking like a startled puppy Scott paused awkwardly before the need for caffeine drew him to the freshly brewed pot. 

“What are you doing here?” Lydia demanded, glaring at Scott. 

“Um,” he said intelligently as he poured his coffee. “Getting coffee?” Lydia made an impatient noise as she rolled her eyes. 

“I meant here as in the Hale house?” she asked and Scott shrugged. 

“I could ask you the same question.” he said blandly, taking a sip of his coffee and shuffling out of the kitchen while Lydia struggled with outrage. 

“Who’re you?” they turned to see a dark skinned young man wearing only shorts standing at the door to the backyard, looking confusedly at Lydia and Danny. 

“Hi, I’m Danny.” Danny said, looking like he’d been hit upside the head with the love stick. Talia had to turn her head slightly to hide her smile. 

“Hello Christian, did you have a good run?” Talia asked her oldest nephew. Christian stared at Danny and Lydia a moment longer before shrugging at his aunt. 

“It’s colder up here then at home.” he said and walked over to get himself a glass of water. “Is everyone still asleep?” he asked, downing a glass and filling it up again. Talia nodded. 

“David and Sara are up with Eli, and I think Viggo’s downstairs. But everyone else is still asleep, yes. Except for Granny of course.” Christian nodded and then left without saying goodbye. 

“Um,” Danny tried, still looking like someone had hit him upside the head with something heavy. 

“You’ll have to forgive Christian, he doesn’t do well with strangers.” Talia said, hiding a smile as she got up to pour her own cup of coffee “We were all up quite late, your friend made quite the entrance last night.” 

“Where was he?” Danny asked, as Lydia still seemed beyond words. Talia took her time in answering, sitting back down with a steaming cup in hand. 

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll tell you, when he’s ready.” she said, smiling calmly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lydia snapped. Talia just hummed thoughtfully and sipped her coffee. 

“Well,” Sylvia said, walking into the kitchen. “Chris said we had guests.” She smiled at them, hands on hips. “Hello I’m Sylvia Hale, Christian’s mother. The surly one’s my sister.” she nodded at Talia who raised an eyebrow in response, Sylvia just winked. 

“Where is Jackson?” Lydia demanded once more, seeming to think she’d get farther with Sylvia than with Talia. 

“He’s resting.” Sylvia said, going to make her own tea. “I just checked on him, his breathing’s evened out and the fever’s down.” 

“What? What fever?!” Lydia exclaimed, jumping up. 

“Oh, it’s gone.” Sylvia said blandly, taking a drink of tea. Lydia narrowed her eyes, mouth thinning as she glared back and forth between the two. 

“Enough of this,” she snapped and marched out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Talia looked lazily over at Sylvia and raised her eyebrows. Sylvia just blinked at her.

“Oh no, by all means, I’ll get up.” Talia said finally. Sylvia smiled at her and took another drink of tea. 

“Um,” Danny said again, looking slightly distressed after Lydia. 

“Would you like some tea?” Sylvia asked as Talia made her way after Lydia. 

“Jackson? Jackson!” Lydia called as she stomped up the stairs to the second floor to rip open the first door she saw. 

“Wah!” Isaac yelled, sitting up in bed with his hair sticking up in every direction. “Ehym srry wazzn me!” he said, one hand coming up reflexively as he blinked around blearily. 

Suddenly there was a hand on Lydia’s shoulder, “It’s alright Isaac, you’re safe.” Talia said, voice soft but firm. Isaac blinked at her for a moment, hand up, before nodding sleepily and slumping back into the pillows. Gently Talia pulled Lydia out of the room and shut the door. 

“Where. Is. Jackson.” Lydia said, chin thrust out as she glared at her. Talia gave her a long look before she nodded and started down the hall. 

“Well?” She asked after she saw that Lydia hadn’t followed her. Still glaring Lydia went after her, feet quieter on the hall rug. 

Talia opened the guest bedroom door after giving Lydia a warning look, and walked inside. Jackson was wrapped in the covers, hair plastered to his forehead, face slack and innocent in sleep. 

“Jackson.” Lydia breathed, walking tentatively to the bed and sitting down, hand coming to her mouth. All her fight drained out of her and she slumped, eyes filling up as she watched him. “What happened?”

“Like I said,” Talia replied gently, “it’s a long story, I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain it to you.” 

 

“A pack meeting? You have those?” Stiles asked incredulously. 

“Of course!” Scott smiled, putting the cat back in the cage. “Mrs. Hale said Mr. Hale is making his special solstice meal, and there’s gonna be a party for Elsa; she’s turning thirteen, which is a big deal, I think. I’m not sure, I haven’t really asked, but everyone’s coming. Even Deaton’s coming, I think.” He looked over his shoulder at his boss who was shuffling papers. 

“The vet?”

“Yeah, he’s the pack Emissary.”

“And that is…”

“Oh right, um, it’s sort of a magic-thing, I think.” 

“Ahuh.”

“But yeah, dinner starts at 6.” 

“What does a lycan birthday entail exactly?” They made their way out of the back room to where Scott could clocked out and say goodbye to Deaton. 

“I’m not exactly sure, I’ve never been to one.” They got into Stiles jeep as Scott seemed to contemplate his lack of knowledge concerning his own kind. 

“I should ask more questions.” Scott said.

“Yup, probably.” Stiles said, pulling the jeep out of the driveway. 

“So what happened to your aunt anyway?” Scott asked, rolling down the window to feel the breeze.

“Oh she, she had to work.” Stiles said somewhat lamely, luckily though, Scott wasn't paying attention. 

 

“Happy Birthday!” They all applauded as Enzo brought out the huge chocolate cake with thirteen red candles on it. 

Elsa grinned, hugging her joy as she beamed at everyone. “Blow them out _mi estrellita_.” Granny Hale said, sitting beside her granddaughter and smiling. 

“I thought I was your _estrellita_?” Sylvia huffed, hands on hips. Edie snorted. 

“ _Mi Estrella_ , you are many things, little is not one of them.” Edie said dryly to mingled chuckles and an indignant squawk from Sylvia. 

“Go on dearest,” Talia said, urging Elsa on. With a well timed pause for dramatic effect, Elsa took a big breath and blew out all of the candles in one go. 

“What’s with the red candles?” Stiles whispered to Scott. Scott just shrugged, clapping along with everyone else. 

“Red for the pack, red for the blood, red for the alpha.” Stiles jumped to see a terrifyingly beautiful woman a head shorter than him. She raised a very sharp eyebrow at him and smirked. “You must be Stiles,” she said, holding out a calloused hand. “We have not met.” Rationalizing that of course she couldn’t kill him in a room full of witnesses Stiles shook her hand. 

“Um, hello.” he said, trying not to sound as startled as he was, she grinned. 

“I am Helena, Elsa’s aunt.” Stiles looked from her to Talia, whom she looked nothing like. “Peter’s wife.” she added. Stiles nodded, he hadn’t met Peter, but from what Scott said, he didn’t really want to. 

“It’s ah, very nice to meet you.” he said, shooting for diplomatically polite. She laughed harshly. 

“Don’t look so terrified, I promise I don’t bite...usually anyway.” That...was not that reassuring. She chuckled again and wandered off to wish Elsa a happy thirteenth. 

“Am I still alive?” Stiles asked Scott, who patted him on the shoulder. 

“Mostly.” he said, and went to get cake.

They all accepted the plates of chocolate cake that Enzo was handing out then and wow, Stiles really needed to spend more time here cause that was just heavenly. Scott got distracted by Allison then and Stiles wandered off into the living room where he did a double take. Lydia Martin was sitting stiffly beside Jackson, who still looked kind of pale. Danny was across the room flirting with a really stiff muscly guy who Stiles didn’t know. 

“Did I-miss something?” he asked no-one in particular. 

“The loud girl showed up this morning yelling about the lizard boy.” He startled to find Viggo standing next to him, an uneaten plate of cake in his hand. 

“You gonna eat that?” Stiles asked instead of making some kind of gripe about supernatural beings being too quiet. Viggo looked down at the cake contemplatively. 

“No. But mom says it’s rude not to take a piece.” he looked over at Stiles and held out the cake. “Would you like it?” Stiles raised both brows. 

“I would love it! You sure? It’s delicious.”

“I don’t like chocolate.” Viggo said and handed over the plate. 

“So Talia just-let them into the pack? Spilled the big secret? Just like that?” Stiles asked, mouth full of cake. 

“Aunt Talia said that Lydia is a Banshee.” Viggo said, as though that explained everything. Stiles nearly choked on his cake. “I’m not sure about the smiling boy...but he’s nice. Christian doesn’t like him though, I think it’s cause he smiles at him too much.” 

“Lydia’s a what-now?” Stiles spluttered. 

“A Banshee, and close your mouth, you’re going to attract flies.” He jumped, turning to see Lydia standing next to him, arms crossed. 

“Uhm,” he said intelligently. 

“So, why are you here then?” she asked, voice clipped. Stiles looked behind her to see Jackson walking over to console Danny, who’d been abandoned by Christian. 

“Um...Scott?” Stiles said, feeling both intimidated and confused. 

“So you’re human then? Not some secret wolf-lizard monster?” 

“Um,” he really needed to stop saying that. “No, definitely human.”

“You don’t smell human.” They both turned to see a gorgeous girl with light brown hair and impressive shoulders standing behind them and sniffing Stiles. 

“Um,” damnit. “I’m sorry?”

“You smell like,” she sniffed him again. “Ozone, and fire.” she cocked her head at him, a considering look on her face. 

“And who are you?” Lydia snapped, arms crossed. The girl turned to her, blinking dreamily. 

“You smell like fog and charcoal and blood, definitely not human.”

“Fascinating, you didn’t answer my question.” Lydia glared, the girl just smiled. 

“I’m Malia.” she said and then turned and sauntered off without so much as a how-do-you-do. 

“That was weird.” Stiles said. 

“You’ll have to forgive Malia,” they turned again to find a tall well muscled man with Talia’s eyebrows and Granny Hale’s mouth staring after Malia with a pursed mouth. “Societal graces are not her strong suit.” 

“Clearly.” Lydia said dryly. “And you are?” The worried expression melted away as he turned and smirked at both of them. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I am Peter Hale, Malia’s father.” Ah, so this was Peter, somehow that explained everything, well, mostly. 

“She um, takes after you I guess.” Stiles said, trying for tact but probably failing. Peter chuckled. 

“Yes, I guess she does.” he said, still smirking. “If that is your polite way of saying that my wife is not her mother.” Well, if he was just going to come out and say it. “Malia is the result of a youthful dalliance of mine.” A youthful dalliance? Stiles blinked, who even says stuff like that? 

“Peter, stop terrifying the children.” Laura Hale had wandered over to them. 

“I’m doing no such thing,” Peter protested, hand coming to his chest. “We were having a perfectly civilized conversation, weren’t we?” he turned back to wink at them. Laura snorted. 

“Yeah, right.” she turned to Stiles and Lydia. “The ceremonies starting.” she nodded towards the back door and walked out. 

“Ceremony?” Stiles whispered to Lydia, but it was Viggo who answered. 

“A wolf’s marking, the thirteenth year.” Viggo said as they followed the crowd outside. 

Elsa stood in the middle of the backyard with Talia and Granny Hale at her back, wearing only a black sports bra and cotton shorts. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders and her sunflower colored eyes practically glowed with happiness as she stood in front of her pack. 

“Wh-” Scott started only to get elbowed by Cora and told to hush. As they all gathered around Sylvia Hale went about and lit the ceremonial torches around the yard. 

Finally, as the sun finished setting and darkness solidified a hush fell over the yard, the only sound the quiet noise of the surrounding woods and the crackling of the fire. Granny Hale stepped forward, her cane thumping on the ground as she turned to face Elsa. 

“Elsa,” she said, her voice cracked with age and her sightless eyes staring absently ahead. Elsa stepped forward, bringing her to the center of the circle of torches. “My darling _estrellita_.” she brought her weathered and age swollen hand up to caress Elsa’s face. Elsa's eyes closed of their own accord and her chest moved faster with each breath. “Are you ready?” Granny Hale asked softly, her voice only audible to Elsa, who nodded. 

Granny Hale nodded, stepping back and bringing her walking stick up once and down sharply, thumping the earth. “Earth.” her voice, quiet and cracked as it was, carried in the night air. “Sky. Sea. Fire.” a shiver ran down Stiles spine, his magic making his fingers tingle as the hair stood up on the back of his neck. “Wolf. Bird. Horse. Cat.” shifting amongst the pack as members straightened, heads up, the electric feeling heating up Stiles skin now. “Unity. Balance. Change. Life. All these things you must consider, bind them in your heart, stitch them on your soul. _Loupgarou, vrykalaka, Lycan, wolf_.” a rumble started around the circle. The wolves were swaying now, Stiles eyes widened unsure of what his part in this should be, only that it felt bigger, and older, than anything he’d ever felt before. 

“Elsa Edeline Hale.” Elsa’s head came up, her eyes bright and her breathing fast. “Have you considered all that you are, all you will become?” 

“Yes _anciana_.” Elsa said, voice soft as her eyes closed. 

“Will you serve your Alpha in all respect, and your pack in all love?” 

“Yes.” she breathed.

Talia stepped forward then, a small bag in hand. “Take my hand.” she said, voice soft and yet echoing. Elsa’s hand came up, clasping onto her mother's. Gently Talia placed Elsa’s hand in the bag. A sharp intake of breath, her head jerked up but her eyes remained closed. “Breath, just breath.” Talia said, voice steady. Elsa’s breath quickened, her brow furrowed as sweat appeared on her brow. 

Suddenly there was a burst of light from within the bag and the smell of burning charcoal as Elsa gasped, her eyes flying open, burning bright yellow. It was Sylvia who started the howl, head thrown back as she crowed to the night sky, soon enough the others took her lead as well, eyes flashing yellow and blue all around the circle. Stiles had to fight off the frankly ridiculous urge to follow suit as Scott and Isaac and Erica all threw their heads back and howled. Hell even Jackson did it, eyes turning an icy blue. 

As the howl ended they all rushed towards Elsa, who was promptly lifted on top of her father’s shoulders, a slightly red intricate celtic mark on her sternum, just visible beneath her top. She grinned, clasping arms with her various packmates who came to congratulate her, complimenting her on her mark. 

“Well that was,” Stiles started, slightly dumbfounded.

“Awesome!” Scott said excitedly. “Does this mean I’ll get one too?” Stiles shook his head slightly, unsure what to make of the whole affair, but he joined Scott as they went to congratulate Elsa with everyone else. 

“One day-one day, hey! One day I’m gonna get a mark too!” Tobe was saying to anyone who would listen while looking at his aunt’s new mark with burning envy. Elsa knelt to give him a hug. 

“And it will be glorious _mi cariño_.” She said, squeezing him until he squeaked in protest. 

“Can I see! Can I see! Hey! Elsa! Can I see?” a dark haired little girl with bright hazel eyes careened into them, jumping up and down and nearly knocking them over. 

“Yes, Aramis, yes.” Elsa laughed, straightening to show her young cousin her mark. “It’s called a Carolingian Cross.” she explained as Aramis brushed reverent fingers over it, grinning up at her cousin. 

“So..do you all have cool tattoos?” Stiles asked Laura, who happened to be standing next to him. She laughed. 

“They’re not technically tattooes.” she said. “They’re a part of us, they reveal our nature, and they grow as we grow. Born wolves, like Elsa, get them on their thirteenth birthday. Bitten wolves, depending on how old they are, get them one year after their turning.”

“Really?” Scott said from nearby, whooping with excitement. “Five more months!” he ran off to find Talia and ask more questions about his impending tattoo. 

“So yes, you do all have tattooes.” Stiles said, answering his own question. 

“Not all of us.” Laura said, eyes turning to Viggo, who was standing next to his father across the clearing. “It’s a wolf thing.” 

“Are they not wolves?” Stiles frowned, feeling like he'd just taken two steps forward and one step back. Laura grinned. 

“Nope.” she said and sauntered off to talk to her aunt. 

“This just gets more and more weird, doesn’t it.” He heard a musical laugh behind him and saw the plump and pretty wife of the eldest Hale coming out of the house with a two cups of tea.

“You have no idea.” she said, winking at him as she made her way to her husband. Somehow that didn’t make Stiles feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That was a long one. So I'm going to do two more chapters, instead of just one. And then this story will be done. I debated on whether or not to develop Sterek in this story or the sequel and it just felt like too much to shove into one narrative. I can certainly plant the seeds which will inevitably grow into the beautiful Sterek tree we are all looking forward to, but right now they still hardly know each other. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys liked that. I wanted to add more about Lycan culture and family tradition, really expound upon this whole shifter community, also Elsa just sort of, took hold of her own story. Seriously! She just crept in there, sat down very primly and said 'excuse me?' and I just got the hell out of the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha! I finally posted it! I will attempt to actually finish it this time. But please, by all means, berate me ceaselessly if I do not. I've been planning this thing for a while and I really want to finish it.


End file.
